A Cook's Recipe For:
by TextlessNovel
Summary: When bad luck starts cookin' up trouble for Sanji, he is convinced the world has it out to get him, and he's got the perfect recipe for revenge. Except, the dish turns out to be a more bitter bite than Sanji can chew. Zoro/Sanji. Nakamaship.
1. Prolouge: Dance of a Flour Sack

_**Summary:**__ When Sanji is hit head on with a stroke of bad luck, he is convinced the world has it out to get him, and Sanji has the perfect recipe for revenge. The dish turns out to be a more bitter bite than Sanji can chew, and now he has to invent a recipe for forgiveness. Zoro/Sanji, Nakamaship._

**Disclaimer:** The One Piece world and characters are not my own and belong to their respective creators. I'm not gaining anything but entertainment from this fiction.

**Author's Note**: I hope you enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated. _**This chapter has been severely edited from it's originally posted version.**_

**Warnings:** Bad Language! Those foul-mouthed pirates... (hmph)..

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**A Cook's Recipe For: **

_Prologue: Because This Is the Dance of A Flour Sack._

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-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_the rhythm of this cruel beat is saving me_

_and i'm white and wilting and beat upon_

_cover me and hide my face in the dance_

_in this waltz of life_

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

It could be worse.

It could be worse.

Oh, it could be worse.

Definitely.

Somehow.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Combine the following ingredients:

1 temperamental flame

1 burnt pancake

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_It could be worse!_

This mantra was one that Sanji, cook of the Strawhat Pirates, had been muttering endlessly since the day began. Trust him, he had his reasons.

Sanji wasn't a believer in Bad Luck. He wasn't a believer in Good Luck, necessarily, but when it came to blessings, Sanji believed that he'd picked more than his fair share of long straws. Even though some things didn't go exactly according to plan, on _normal_ days Sanji could find some good stowed away in little crevices that you just had to reach for. The bad, often times, had little sprits of good weaved throughout it that made unlucky events seem borderline bearable. Sort of like the nice buzz after downing a bottle of shitty rum.

_But_, there were always _those _days.

_Those_ days: the ones where no matter how hard you try, something will go wrong just for the sheer hell of it. On those days, the bright side was hidden so far in the dark that Sanji just couldn't seem to seek out its' flame. And the cook normally prided himself for always having a light on hand.

The misfortune was unexplainable. And it just so happened that today, in some twisted act of fate, Sanji had finally picked a short straw. Walked under a ladder. Stepped on a crack. Whatever kind of superstition that the blonde had broken, he wasn't sure. Maybe he'd spilled some salt when he didn't notice. But something sure as hell had shifted. Sanji was sure that Fate had a middle finger, and it was currently thrust in his face, super glued straight up.

Yes, today was becoming one of _those_ days.

_When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. _Was the bullshit phrase that had been said to him countless times as a child. But Sanji didn't have any literal lemons, and so he used Nami's tangerines instead.

But his juice turned out bitter. And they were low on sugar. Sanji made a puckered face as he finished taste-testing the sour liquid. It stung his gums and burned his throat on the way down. The food was even against him now. Somehow things had begun to seem a bit unreasonable. He'd set the pitcher on the table momentarily until he could think of a way to salvage it.

_Things could be worse. _

Sanji couldn't pinpoint exactly how they could be worse, because it wasn't just anything in particular that put him in a foul mood today. It was just that _every little_ _thing _seemed to want to piss the blonde chef off, and frankly, Sanji was just not in the mood to be pissed off today. Except, he was, and the universe saw it fit to keep finding ways to make sure he stayed that way.

For example, Sanji woke up from too little sleep, and promptly fell face-first out of his hammock.

And that was just the beginning…

He'd nicked himself shaving in the bathroom this morning. Burned the first round of breakfast to a crisp. Barely got any rest because his other crew mates wouldn't quit talking in their sleep. Stubbed his toes on a stray cannon ball out on deck. Started thinking _"it could be worse"_ just before walking into his kitchen at the crack of dawn only to find his traps had been sprung and cookie crumbs were all that was leftover from a heaping plate of desserts he'd made just last night…

Even that was only a tiny aspect of his horrible existence now.

These events were bothersome, sure, but these everyday occurrences weren't the cause of Sanji's annoyance. No, it was more like every little thing was just piling up too fast.

And the blonde's patience was seriously waning.

Patience soon became completely intangible the moment a certain shitty straw-hatted captain had flown through the galley door with a wail of, "SANJI! FOOD!"

There was a violent retort from the cook saying, "It's not done yet, Luffy!" And the blonde had barely managed to miss getting splattered into a wall by the rambunctious boy.

Looking back on it now, Sanji wouldn't have minded it being a normal wall-splattering event.

Because instead, like a sequence in a bad horror film, he'd first been catapulted into the dinner table, cracked it right down the middle, bounced off, and was _then _splattered into the wall where his knife rack hung.

The cook didn't even see it coming. Even though, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should have been expecting it.

"Out. Now. Or no meat for a week." Sanji finally hissed, breathing hard as he lay there with a plethora of sharp objects scattered around his head. Luffy had scrambled away so fast that Sanji barely heard the "Oops" that the Captain sputtered. Of course, Sanji didn't hear the "Sorry" and he was pretty sure there wasn't one anyways.

_It could be worse. It could be much worse. _The cook reminded himself.

This, all this, combined with the fact that Sanji had smoked his way down to his last pack of cigarettes, left him on edge.

Sanji sighed as he heard a very loud explosion outside that rocked the ship. Tell tale cries of "Dammit! Why did you do that!" could be heard from a very disgruntled sniper. Sanji's heart would have soared at the sounds of someone else's day going just as shitty as his was, except the booming explosion seemed to finally unleash the migraine that he knew was coming, forming painfully between his eyebrows. Head pounding, Sanji stared up at the ceiling from his position on the kitchen floor, and sighed again.

Maybe "on edge" was too delicate of a statement.

_But it could be worse, right?_

Maybe.

As it was now, Sanji needed some serious stress relief. So, to take off a little pent up anger at having the Universe trying in all-powerful ways to make his life a living hell, he'd decided right then that he should share some of his sour misfortune and spread his misery to some of his oblivious crew mates.

But as fate would have it, when the gears for revenge started turning in Sanji's mind, he caught sight of something else. Something wet, orange, and sticky covering the kitchen floor. The pitcher of freshly squeezed tangerine juice, made special from Nami-swan's personal grove, was currently on its side, on the ground, hydrating the woodwork.

"When life gives you lemons, my ass. What happens when the lemonade_ spills_?" Sanji roared to no one.

Skull bashing target number one: Luffy.

He was going to kill that shitty rubber retard.

_How could this day possibly get any worse?_

Frustrated tears gathered in the corners of Sanji's eyes as he hastily stood up. He turned then, and in his fury accidentally elbowed the handle of the sizzling skillet resting on the stove.

Scalding oil flew all over the cook's clean white dress shirt; ruining it, but not before splashing across his left hand, scorching his thumb and palm. Sanji literally had tears making mocking trails down his cheeks by the time he'd managed to stop the very "manly" shriek that unbiddenly left him.

He tore over to the sink, forced freezing cold water across his stinging burn and grabbed a dishtowel to wrap his hand in. When a random butcher knife that the towel was resting on narrowly missed stabbing into Sanji's kneecap, before landing with its' blade tip point-down in the kitchen floor, the rattled young chef decided it was definitely time to take a break.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

2 loud curses

1 dozen (cracked) eggs

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_And that's why you can't touch it like that!" _ Were the first words the cook heard when he stepped out through the galley door. Sanji closed his eyes. Let out a long simmering breath, willing himself to calm down.

He _really_ didn't want to know what Usopp was talking about, even though the cook found himself seeking out the voice anyways and his gaze fell on the long-nosed Marksman chatting emphatically to their Shipwright up on the grass deck. Franky was answering back a mile a minute and frantically nodding.

Sanji wanted to ignore them. There was no way he wanted to get caught up into any annoying fables that the sniper would surely be telling. And Franky, well, the half-mechanical man had just joined the crew a few weeks ago, and although Sanji wasn't quite used to all of the cyborg's unique annoying antics, he already knew he was another loud crew mate.

Both men seemed all-too-dramatic. Especially right now, while Sanji's nerves were all high-strung.

And then Sanji's eyes fell on his Captain, who was standing about a foot away from both of them, supposedly absorbing the lecture he was receiving. But Sanji could see Luffy's vacant gaze from a mile away. Usopp and Franky were obviously wasting their time opening their big mouths to even explain anything to him in the first place.

And forget explaining, all Sanji wanted to do was to punch the idiot in the head for what had happened in the kitchen moments ago.

Images of the stolen cookies, wasted juice, and broken table flashed through his mind.

He wanted to pound Luffy into the ground for entirely ruining his breakfast preparations.

"Luffy! You're dead!"

The threat left Sanji's lips just as his legs started moving.

Luffy yelped at the sight of the enraged chef.

Sanji raced for the stairs, flew up them, made a sharp turn around the corner, using the railing as a hinge, and before he even knew what was happening, had his feet swept out from under him. He skidded across the deck a few feet, not knowing what had tripped him up in the first place. Sanji cursed as he quickly found himself losing their impromptu game of tag.

"Grahh, Luffy get back here!" Sanji scowled, pushing his chin out of the wooden deck.

"Sanji-kun, is something wrong?"

The cook's ears perked at the sweet melodious voice that addressed him and his eyes darted immediately towards his left where he could see two of the most gorgeous ladies sun-tanning. Sanji was actually thankful he wasn't standing anymore when his limbs turned to jelly. With hearts in his eyes, he waved up at the females, allowing his captain a chance to get further away. "Nami-my sweet, divine angel, nothing is wrong with the world as long as you're in it."

Well, nothing should be wrong with the world as long as Nami-swan was in it… _except_ Luffy was still existing in it. Sanji twisted back towards the rubber man, hoping to remove at least a little stain in his otherwise perfect world. But all he saw was the outline of where Luffy once would have been. Damn idiot had gotten away. Sanji cussed loudly.

Instead of trying to chase the rubber boy all over the freaking deck, which would probably end up with one of them in the ocean anyways, Sanji tried his best to just let it go. He huffed exhaustedly and strode closer to the railing, panting, and glanced out at the dreary sea. He was still pissed off.

The breeze on deck was salty and warm, and _stifling__, _the kind of weather that Sanji particularly hated. He liked the breeze cool and the air fresh, like after a good rain shower. '_Balmy, humid, shitty air…_' he snuffed. Maybe he should just go back to bed...

He kept nursing his burned hand by rubbing the cold towel against it. Maybe he should get Chopper to take a look at it, but of course, the small doctor was nowhere to be seen. Sanji was just about to go hunt the little guy down when a green eye-sore struck through Sanji's peripheral vision.

Sanji turned, a slow gentleman's curve, and his lips quirked.

It was perfect. Sanji had never gotten to let loose his stress on his Captain, and there in the center of the deck was the answer to Sanji's shitty problems. A green headed swordsman was locked in Sanji's range of vision. A quick fight with Roronoa Zoro. Now that would make him feel better. The lazy bastard didn't know what Sanji had cookin' for him. After all, the swordsman had been one of the main reasons for Sanji's sleepless night, all the sleep-talk, which was odd, but the cook could think of no one better to dish out his anger to now. The thought sent a surge of tingling adrenaline through his gut.

Luffy and the mayhem he'd caused all but forgotten, Sanji tapped the toes of his shoe against the wooden deck, prepping himself for battle. The cook had found a more willing target to endure his wrath. A smirk dusted across his thin lips, and then his feet were hastily carrying him to the misshapen lump littering the deck. Zoro picked a shitty place for a nap today.

_When life knocked you down, get right back up and kick the shit out of it. Right?_

It's not like it was rare for Sanji to kick Zoro, while he was snoozing in the middle of the deck, for no apparent reason. The two fought and bickered all the time. It'd become a weird sort of ritual in their never ending need to get stronger.

Sanji reared his foot back, dress-shoe shined to perfection as it glittered in the sunlight, and aimed for the swordsman's ribs. It was just a novice attack that didn't take much thought, or strength really, just one that would pack enough of a punch to get things heated. Sanji had done the same thing a million times before. Except, this time when Sanji made to kick Zoro, he had failed to notice that Zoro wasn't actually asleep, and the swordsman had shifted; in turn causing Sanji to trip over thin air and land sprawled out across the lazing Marimo. This got the swordsman's disgruntled attention, and he'd snapped at the cook.

"You have issues, eyebrow freak!" Zoro said, before he roughly shoved the blonde away.

Sanji caught himself with his hands, startled when Zoro shoved him. The swordsman's push was rough and careless, it didn't feel planned like usual_. _It felt like an instinctual action to shove him out of Zoro's personal space. His head snapped back to glare at his opponent. "You're in my way, sod-head," Sanji sneered before jumping to his feet, blood boiling and spirits rising. At least he'd gotten the swordsman's attention. He was just itching for a good fight.

But since Sanji was meant to be miserable today, Zoro simply turned over. Back facing the blonde he mumbled a, "Tryin' to sleep, now go away."

Sanji was left absolutely stunned. Zoro was out-right ignoring him! He was going to get a decent fight out of the sword-bastard if it was the last thing he did. He _needed_ this, dammit! He drove a hard kick into Zoro's spine with a purpose.

Zoro snapped, and whirled back to face his crewmate, a dull ache in his back now, "What the hell was that for?"

"I told you, Grass-face. You're in my way!"

"Then walk the other way, Curly-brow!"

"You don't even know where 'the-other-way' is, Directionless Moron!"

"I'll kill you, Target-eyebrows!"

"Just try it, Mossy!"

"Pansy Cook!"

"Lazy Marimo!"

This was better. At least Sanji wasn't being beaten up by inanimate objects in his own kitchen. Even if Zoro could be closely related to an inanimate object by the amount of time he spent lounging around. Sanji could hold his own against the swordsman. He smirked. He could feel a little of the stress melting away. His anger slowly started disappearing, thanks to their verbal sparring war.

And then Zoro caught sight of Sanji's hand, twisted in a wet cloth. The swordsman quirked an eyebrow, "What'd you do to your hand, butter fingers? Are we turning to cannibalism now, because you'd taste terrible. You stupid skinny stick!"

Sanji's anger flared back up at the personal jibe. He grit his teeth and retaliated. "At least I don't have slices all up and down my body, really shitty swordsman, is your sense of direction so bad that you cut yourself up instead of the enemy?"

"I'll show you what I can cut up!"

"Oh, shut up, Marimo, I'm having a bad day."

"Oh-boo-frickin-hoo. You started it!" Zoro drew a sword, slowly, antagonizing the cook.

Sanji smirked. "I did?" He mock questioned. The anticipation of a good fight was already helping his anger ebb away. Zoro was glowering around the white sword that he'd set between his teeth. It looked like this fight would get physical after all. _Good_, Sanji thought, _maybe the world can start being normal again. _"If I started it, I'd better finish it, huh?"

"Bring it, Princess."

Sanji charged. Zoro stood his ground. Sanji kicked. Zoro blocked.

This created a scuffle that might have helped, in theory. But in reality it just made everyone else on the ship aggravated and Nami had finally been the one to shut them both up by threatening them with such a large debt that they'd both be six feet under before they saw another coin. Their fight was cut dreadfully short. And if the day wasn't already bad enough for Sanji, an angry Nami just made him feel even worse—

He noodle danced all the way back to his trashed galley to prepare something delectable for his sweet Nami-swan and Robin-chwan to celebrate how beautiful they both were, because "Nami was so gorgeous when she was scolding him and showing off her authority" and "Robin had shook her head just like an angel would have", and he felt inclined to apologize for his brutishness. But when he went to retrieve his special recipes for the girl's special drinks that he always kept close at hand, they were of course, nowhere to be seen today.

He walked back out on deck trying to determine where he could have put the damn things.

If Sanji wasn't the rational gentleman that he was, he would say that someone was purposefully setting him up, just to watch him squirm. Or Someone up there seriously had it out to get him. All that was missing were the lightning bolts.

All of Sanji's rationalism left him completely the moment Usopp's miss-shot Egg Pepper Star landed with an innocent "_plop!" _atop his head, leaving a stinky goo running down the side of his face.

"Oops, sorry Sanji!" Usopp crowed timidly, "My bad!"

Sanji didn't even deem that with a response. That was the final straw.

Pissed, livid, and wanting to brutally murder something, Sanji had kicked in the main mast and left the Starboard railing in shambles before marching below deck towards the storage rooms.

Zoro cocked an eyebrow at the man, calling him a "deranged cook" which caused Sanji to be seen dragging a protesting Zoro with him, and leaving behind a wailing Franky and very irate Usopp to fix the mess he'd left behind.

So now he was down in one of the stuffy storage rooms below the ship's deck looking for his misplaced recipe cards, that he swore "must be in here somewhere" and he'd dragged along a very disturbed swordsman just for shits and giggles to help him in his search.

Because, the cook thought, half-heartedly, _it could be worse, couldn't it_? And then the Marimo's soft snores reached his ears… while he was standing up… with his eyes open….

Fuming, Sanji kicked him into the wall, and it didn't even help any when Zoro let out one more satisfied snore, "Well, at least his eyes are closed now." Sanji muttered, and stepped around the broken wood and sleeping irritant to retrieve a ladder.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

8 slices of blackened toast

5 hours of interrupted sleep

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Just grab it already!" Sanji growled, glancing up at his crewmate with exasperation.

"It's not up here." Zoro stood on his tip toes, staring into the empty cupboard. The black corners were laced with spider webs that he just didn't feel like dealing with. His back sort of hurt for some reason, and he twisted a little to try and crack it while still keep his balance on the ladder's thin steps. Felt like he'd been kicked into a wall or something.

Sanji stood below him, trying to keep the ladder steady as the swordsman twisted his body. "Quit messing around, Moss-head, and stand up straight. This thing's heavy with you on it." He looked up at Zoro with a crease in his brow. "I'm sure I put them up there, are you sure you're looking in the right spot?"

Zoro huffed, righting himself on the ladder. "Where the hell is the 'right spot', Cook? This cupboard's tiny and filled with nothing but air, dust, and spiders."

Sanji flinched from the mention of the dreaded monster-bugs, and from the swordsman's tone. "It's not up there. Go look for yourself if you want." Zoro snarled, climbing back down the ladder and jarring Sanji out of his trance when he barely missed stepping on the other man's toes.

"They have to be up there." Sanji growled again, throwing his head back and glaring at the shelves. He wasn't sure if he was more pissed that they were empty or housing a bunch of creepy spiders.

"If you're done wasting my time, I'm gonna get back to my nap." Sanji's icy glare turned immediately to Zoro and the swordsman faltered. "If that's alright with you." He grouched, a little quieter. The pure reckless anger in the cook's eyes was a little perplexing. If that crappy cook didn't calm down he was just going to end up doing something stupid.

Sanji glowered at him; the swordsman's stupid mossy head was offending him just as much as his misplaced recipe cards. "Well, it's not alright with me. You'll do what I tell you if you want to eat tonight."

"What?" Zoro roared, his eyes were narrowed at the cook, daring him to go through with that threat.

Sanji didn't move a muscle, fishing through his jacket pocket for a cigarette. He nearly tore the pocket off when his hand came back empty. He'd forgotten he stashed his smokes that were running too low back in his bunk, and wished he would have at least kept one for emergencies on him now. Sanji clenched his teeth together in a creaking anger, he saw the thoroughly irritated swordsman do an about-face in front of him.

Zoro's boots scratched across the wooden floor until he was toe to toe with the cocky blonde. "It's not up there, you stupid cook. What do you want me to do about it?"

Sanji rolled his eyes, watching Zoro's hand come to a loose grip around the hilt of the white katana at his hip. "What Zoro, are you gonna wave your swords and make it magically appear?" Sanji challenged, eyeing the swordsman's hand and just daring him to start a fight in the tiny storeroom.

"How 'bout I wave my swords and make something magically _disappear_?" Sanji tapped his foot and crinkled his nose against Zoro's morning breath as the other man verbally lashed out at him.

"Shut up, idiot, we can't even frickin' fight anymore or else we'll upset Nami-san, so don't tempt me!" Sanji growled. His hand went to rest on his empty pocket.

Zoro stood, breathing heavily and glaring into Sanji's heated eyes. A red anger was still swimming in those normally calm blue depths. Zoro cocked an eyebrow. "What's your problem, Shit-Cook?"

"I don't have a problem, Shit-Swordsman." Sanji snapped back. He clenched his good hand tighter into a fist, and raised it.

Zoro looked at him incredulously. The cook didn't normally even think about fighting with his hands. He narrowed his eyes and took a short, intimidating step in Sanji's direction. "What are you gonna do with that, Sanji?" Zoro taunted, and he saw the cook crumbling with a frustration that didn't make sense to the green-haired man. The cook was quick to anger, but he usually didn't get this certain type of angry over the petty shit. Zoro steadied his hand that was resting on Wadou's white hilt, thumbing the part where the blade met its' sheath.

"Just," Sanji breathed, gritting his teeth and wishing desperately for a smoke. He felt like a fool in front of Zoro. "Just get out of here. Leave me the hell alone, asshole."

The swordsman ignored the desperation in the cook's voice, and watched him lower his fist back to his side. "Tch. Don't you have those recipes memorized or something?" Zoro asked in one last attempt at trying to be civil.

He watched Sanji's hands as they slipped into his pockets. The cook stayed moodily silent.

"Fine, whatever." Zoro moved forward, bumping his shoulder roughly against Sanji's as he passed him, "Maybe you should take a deep breath." He let his hand drop away from his sword, jaw set tight. He refused to be even the slightest bit concerned about Sanji's stubborn ass. "You can find whatever it is you're looking for your own damn self." He didn't know what had pissed the blonde off so badly, but like hell he was going to stand there and find out. He had other shit to deal with.

Zoro heard the cook hiss and frowned to himself as he turned towards the hatch to exit.

"Asshole Marimo," Sanji was muttering curses under his breath, trying to ignore the swordsman's presence completely as he started for the cupboards himself. His hands clenched around the ladder rigs so tightly that his fingers hurt. The burnt palm of his left hand screamed in agony, and Sanji was forced to ignore it. "Stupid bastard can starve. Lazy cactus-brained idiot." He heard Zoro's heavy footfalls walking across the small space to leave, still cursing the Marimo's very existence. "Worse than a damn house plant."

He climbed to the top of the tall shelves with ease, his trained sea legs helping him balance against the unsteady steps and the sway of the ship.

Sanji's ocean blue eyes reflected the emptiness of the cupboards as he stared into them and he nearly went ballistic. His recipes really weren't up here. _Nothing up here but air, dust, and_… It was at that moment that a spider decided to crawl out of a crevice, showing off its' black hairy body to the love-cook and making Sanji's own legs squirm. He jumped unconsciously. Sanji felt the ladder tilt, and yelped. He stamped his foot against the wooden rung of the foothold in frustration and felt the wood give away beneath his feet. "Shit!"

Zoro swiveled at the strangled cry from the cook, not being able to place the call under panic or grief. When he heard a crunch of wood, he froze.

The ladder tipped in slow motion from its' two story height, and Zoro found himself unable to move. He tried to assess the best way to get Sanji down in their cramped quarters that would prevent the blonde from cracking his skull against a wall, and also leaving the cook enough room to maneuver so he could try to save himself . He heard Sanji's startled yelp that sounded strange coming from that particular crewmate, and watched the cook's ankle bend against one of the steps when he tried to correct his balance. The angle looked too unnatural, and Zoro's heart did a funny little drop when Sanji let out another agonized cry.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Zoro heaved one of the large flour bags, that were stored there, off the ground and threw it in the cook's direction. It landed a few feet away beneath the ladder with a slap of bagged flour on wood, and then the rest of the ladder steps finally splintered and the cook came down with a heavy thud. Zoro's whimsical cushion had barely broken his fall.

"Sanji, you okay?" Zoro rasped frantically as he waited for the dust to clear and his ears to stop ringing from the loud crash. His throat had for some reason gone unbearably dry. Zoro felt an odd sensation of his hands trembling at his sides and clenched them into fists to calm them.

Sanji lay in a dazed heap on the ground, his foot throbbing menacingly. By this time, Sanji had simply quit trying to salvage any hope of good happening to him that day, and as a big black hairy spider crawled up his knee to greet him, or mock him in Sanji's case, the chef of the Strawhat crew simply gave up and passed out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 annoying crew.

Mix it all together for a disgusting treat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A broken ankle.

They were all squished inside the infirmary now, and that had been Chopper's diagnosis.

Zoro couldn't figure out why his heartbeat felt so loud and unsteady in his ears when their furry little doctor asked them what had happened. "How did this happen?" Zoro repeated the question numbly, watching Chopper's hooves working skillfully to wrap a colorless bandage around the cook's foot.

He could see Luffy from the corner of his eye, waiting with an almost impatient grin to hear the explanation; his captain's curious innocence gave him the courage to go on. "The cook was on the ladder, being an idiot and…" Zoro paused. He saw Sanji's wince, although the blonde tried to hide it. The cook's mouth was turned down into a deep frown and the anger in his eyes was fading, Zoro didn't know where the sudden urge to lie for Sanji had come from. It must have been the utter humiliation in the damn cook's furrowing curly brow. He let out a breath, "And it fell. Must've hit a wave or something. I should've held it instead of walking away, I guess."

The look on the cook's face was priceless, so much so that Zoro had to lower his head to hide the amused smirk that he could feel was surfacing.

Chopper, of course, took this as a sign of utter guilt on Zoro's part and immediately began shrieking how "Noo, it wasn't your fault Zoro! Accidents happen! Don't blame yourself!"

Luffy brought a hand down on his hat then and firmly stretched a rubbery arm around his swordsman's waist.

"Haha, Zoro you didn't know it was gonna happen!" Luffy's skin was stretched to expose a blinding grin. "And I know you're gonna help Sanji out 'til he gets better!" Zoro nearly choked as his captain cheered those words.

"Oooh, can I touch your cast, Sanji?"

"Luffy, No! You can't touch it, it needs to heal!"

"Aww, but Chopper..."

Zoro struggled against his captain's random outbursts when a strange sound tickled his ears. It was coming from the cook, and instead of mirroring the open-mouth surprise that Zoro was... the idiot was outright laughing; A crazed laugh that left Zoro once more questioning the Love-cook's sanity.

_Great_. Zoro thought. _He got to help a bi-polar invalid…._

"Sanji, you need to take it easy on your leg for the next six weeks, okay? Doctor's orders."

…_For the next… Six Weeks?_

"Thanks, Doctor Chopper..." Sanji lied breathlessly. His eyes stuck on the swordsman's. The cook's gaze softened once, so quickly that Zoro might have even imagined it, before an accusing stare was glaring right back at him.

Sanji knew it wasn't entirely Zoro's fault, but it wasn't his own fault either, and so who better to blame? He formed a glare and sent it in the Moss-head's direction, wishing Zoro would just squirm slightly under the intensity instead of showing no outward reaction at all. If looks could kill, Sanji was sure his day would get about a hundred times better. But, they couldn't… Sanji figured that's how it would be anyways.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Combine the following ingredients:

1 temperamental flame

1 burnt pancake

2 loud curses

1 dozen (cracked) eggs

8 slices of blackened toast

2 hours of interrupted sleep

1 annoying crew

Mix it all together for a disgusting treat.

This was Sanji's recipe for Disaster.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He didn't think there was a _worse_ that the day could become.

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T.B.C~

Reviews make me smile like the sun.


	2. C1: So Charming Are Those Twisted Nails

**Warnings: **Moments of pretty harsh language_. _Sanji is overly vicious.

**Disclaimer: **One Piece belongs to its rightful owner, and it's not me. I only own this work of fiction.

**Note: **Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter, and of course those that didn't, thank you for reading. (happy happy). Enjoy! _**This chapter has been severely edited from it's originally posted version, think of it as the Un-cut version.**_

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**A Cook's Recipe For:**

Chapter One: _So Charming Are Those Twisted Nails_

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_i watched another nail sink into flesh_

_piercing it and holding it hostage_

_and a prince came along with a charming smile_

_and pulled it free_

_but it left rungs and twisted cuts in the palms_

_scars so you wouldn't forget_

_and love to erase what you should have remembered._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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_It can't get any worse?_

_Bah,_

_Fine._

_Bring it._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Knead together in one large bowl:

1 broken ankle

1 demented assistant

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Ah, Luck. Such a lovely lady.

Except for today. Today something had definitely crawled up Lady Luck's ass and died. Of course, that was a bit crude for Sanji to be thinking about.

The truth was, Sanji wasn't taking down time gratefully in any way, shape, or form. He ripped the yellow oven mitts off the counter with a vengeance that kitchen appliances normally weren't subjected to in Sanji's kitchen. But his foot hurt, his "helper" was far from appreciated, and he just wanted to lie down in a hole somewhere and cry his eyes out.

He wasn't used to not being able to stand on his own, and the crutch under his arm proved to be a bigger burden than he thought it would be. Although, it did suffice as a substitute weapon since his foot was out of commission. After hitting the stupid Marimo in the head with it a couple times, he deemed the crutch worthy, and therefore decided it would suffice.

"Hey, Cook, is that goo supposed to be bubbling like that?"

Sanji stiffened and glanced in the direction that Zoro was pointing in. "Ah, damn it!"

Zoro couldn't help but laugh at the suddenly comical display that Sanji was putting on. Almost like a one-footed ballerina.

"Just keep laughing." Sanji muttered dangerously, as he quickly turned the heat down on the stove.

Zoro's laughs dissipated into snorts. He rubbed his eyes thoughtfully, all too aware of Sanji's sour mood, "That was great, now do something else entertaining." He mused. "C'mon, light something on fire."

"Go to hell!" Sanji scowled, turning his back on Zoro. He gave his full attention to the vegetables he'd been mincing. The Moss-Head was absolutely useless to him in the kitchen. The swordsman's grip was a far cry away from being even remotely decent at peeling a single thing. He held Sanji's pairing knives as if they were swords or something. Go figure. The cook was beginning to regret even thinking that the swordsman could help relieve his stressed-out mood in the first place. So now Zoro got to be the brunt of all the cook's frustration, and Sanji figured that just having someone else around to blame for all of his sour misfortunes could give him some form of peace.

Sanji moved the pan, one-handedly, from the prep counter to the stove top in one swift motion and smiled when nothing spilt. Maybe his luck was changing for the better.

And then Zoro had to once again go and open his big mouth.

"So, Cook, do you really just stand here and juggle pots all day?"

Sanji ignored the beast sitting at his hastily repaired dinner table and stirred the pot roast simmering on the stove.

"I'm getting bored," Zoro drawled again, and Sanji didn't know why he wasn't able to block out the annoyance that was Zoro's voice. The man's deep baritone was unavoidable and it made the cook's skin crawl. "Make me do something already, Spiral-face."

Sanji clenched his teeth, irritated. "What am I supposed to make you do anyways, you can't peel things like a decent human being, the way you cut things isn't uniform or consistent, and you probably couldn't boil water to save your life!"

"Tch. Any idiot can boil water, you just stick it in a pot over a big flame for a while." Zoro yawned, "I can cut your stupid fruits faster than you can anyways. Who really cares if they're different sizes?"

"Seriously? You have no tact." Sanji deadpanned, he gripped half an onion, tore the skin off and loved how the strong odor caused his eyes to water so furiously that he could no longer see a clear image of his crew mate.

"C'mon, I'm supposed to be "helping" you or something." The swordsman drawled.

"Don't you think you've done enough, moss-for-brains?" Sanji growled. He set the small oven timer and slammed it down next to the toaster, where it gave a soft ding in protest, but kept counting down the minutes obediently. Sanji breathed out through his nose, eyeing his kitchen appliances wordlessly, just daring them to give him any more trouble today. Satisfied that they were afraid of the cook's wrath, Sanji turned back to his prep counter and started to dice the onions and celery.

Zoro rolled his eyes, secretly amused by the cook's hissy fit. It almost seemed as if the chef was waiting for the oven itself to turn on him. Crazy cook. Acting afraid of his own kitchen. Zoro snickered quietly. "You don't really blame me for your leg getting messed up, do you?" He picked up the salt shaker on the table when the cook continued to ignore him. "I mean, it was your own fault. Scared of a little spider." Zoro chuckled and set the shaker down, this time picking up the black pepper bottle instead.

"Shut up, Zoro."

"Ooh. Why so serious?" Zoro smiled cheekily. Provoking the cook was fun. Provoking the cook when he was already off kilter was even more fun.

Sanji stopped slicing and let out a huffy breath. He forced himself to look at Zoro over his shoulder. "Quit mocking me, damn Moss-ball." He seethed, trying to force out a civilized tone. "Hand me that pepper, would you?"

"What's the magic word?"

"I don't have time for your bullshit."

"I think you have all the time in the world for it." Zoro smirked. "At least, you have more time than usual. I don't see you running any marathons or even putting up a decent fight for a little while when you're like _that_." Zoro motioned to Sanji's cast.

"You really are an ass." Sanji seethed. He reached for his jacket pocket again, and then stopped, remembering his smokes weren't there. Sanji bit his lip. He was so frustrated he could barely see straight.

"Fine. Here Cook, catch."

Sanji had expected the pepper bottle to be lobbed at his head in a Zoro-like fashion, but he wasn't expecting how off his reflexes would be when he turned to grab for it. He choked out a cry when he forgetfully put too much pressure on his hurt foot. His hands froze as he reached out to balance himself instead of catch the flying object and the shaker ended up hitting Sanji in the head.

"I'll kill you, Marimo!"

The next ten minutes were utter chaos when pepper ended up finding its way into the cook's eyes.

Zoro would have found the situation hilarious if Sanji didn't look so serious while holding that knife and threatening to castrate the swordsman. Zoro shivered, taking the cook's threat to heart. He'd instead tried to make peace by showering the cook with a rare act of kindness and helping him rinse his eyes out.

He held Sanji steady while he bent over the sink, cursing, and didn't even laugh when the rest of the crew filed into the galley after hearing the commotion. Zoro thought he had done the cook a favor by keeping his mouth shut, when Nami had demanded what all the fuss was about. It wasn't his fault Sanji was making a scene. He didn't see the big deal about swearing around women anyways. Nami's mouth was just as vulgar as anyone else's.

Apparently, Sanji was pissed that Zoro didn't warn him that they had an audience, and apparently he would have rather had his eyeballs dissolve themselves right in their sockets than have his precious girls seeing him like that. Jeez, stupid retarded prince. Sanji really needed to learn how to loosen up and not care about being so chivalrous when he was practically "Dying from the Burn. Damn pepper. Burns. Burns. Burns."

After that, the entertainment levels practically plummeted when Sanji said he'd kill anyone that said one word. The cook's glare, made more intimidating by the pepper induced redness of his eyes, had the crew racing out of the galley, seemingly deciding for themselves that the show was over and there was nothing to see here.

"Just don't say anything." Sanji murmured after everyone had left, and Zoro found himself still supporting the cook's weight while he made angry dabs at his eyes with a wet towel. When Sanji was able to manage standing on his own with his crutch again, Zoro apparently wasn't quick enough to get away when the blonde whacked him with it.

"Go sit down!"

Zoro obediently sat, while Sanji picked up the enemy pepper bottle and threw it into the far recesses of a random cabinet. The swordsman guessed there would be nothing spicy for dinner tonight. He also guessed that he was wrong about thinking the cook was insane about being wary around his kitchen appliances.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

29 mouthfuls of crafted insults.

2 colorfully forming bruises.

1 shaker full of fresh ground pepper.

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Zoro hated getting the cold shoulder. He could give it just as well, and prided himself in pulling it off great. But to be on the receiving end of a cold shoulder was sort of a new experience. The swordsman found he didn't like it all that much.

It made him feel like a powerless bad guy.

"I said I was sorry."

"I said I hate you."

Zoro sighed, closed his eyes, and put his head down. He wished the cook would just mellow out. Shit, light a friggin' cigarette or something. Zoro nuzzled his head into the crook of his arm tiredly. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go laze about on the deck, feel the warm sun caressing his skin, to get lost in the fresh sea breeze. But instead he was stuck inside the damn kitchen.

And without the comforting deck, warm sun, and fresh sea to soothe him, he would just have to deal with what he had.

The table's smooth wood he was hunched over was a nice start. There was a subtle warmth that poured over him from the oven every time the cook opened the door to check on the meat, which was strangely comforting being combined with the sunlight filtering in from the porthole above the sink. Zoro felt himself nodding off despite himself. The smell of sizzling garlic and butter met his thoughts half-way and he found himself getting lulled to sleep by the sound of Sanji's knife chopping away on the cutting board.

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1 ½ tsp. Mocking Insults

A pinch of forgotten conscience

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Everything seemed to turn grey to Zoro suddenly. He felt himself sit up, but his body felt numb and he couldn't look down to see his own limbs, his gaze would only focus out in front of him, where there were hundreds of white candles floating on black choppy waves of an ocean. Zoro suddenly found his feet, standing on top of two red-shelled sea-turtles. They were pulling him further out to sea. The wind howled at his face with a shrieking voice that he couldn't understand.

He tried to look around, but his head wouldn't turn. The candles that were floating around him started to merge together. Zoro watched breathlessly as they started transforming into one large white pillar. It started to take shape. Candles becoming human-like. And then the melting wax began floating towards him.

Zoro tried to back up a step, but the red turtles held him steady. They were being swallowed suddenly, by the wax and by the black sea. He reached for his swords at his hips, hands going right through them.

Zoro found himself sinking down into the sea too, the turtle shells, now a blood-red wax, trapping him and pulling him down. He tried to cry out. The large pillar of white wax stopped right in front of him, a hand-like portion reaching out and smothering over his face. Zoro felt its' slippery claws closing around his nose. And then he couldn't breathe. He started kicking his feet uselessly as he sunk. Wind gushed against his back, pushing him further into suffocation.

The last thing he saw in the dream was a small barge with a cross shaped mast floating on the distant horizon, and then nothing.

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1 thoroughly beaten heart (preferably a swordsman's)

Beat, Blend, and Tenderize well.

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The sounds of soft jazz music had the swordsman jerking himself awake. His eyes snapped open and he bolted up straight, knees hitting the under-side of the table painfully as he tried to regain his breath. It was just another damn dream. Zoro exhaled and reached up to rub at his forehead. Once he realized exactly where he was and remembered that he had been subjected to being the curly cook's helper, he sneered and wiped away a string of drool on his chin.

His eyes darted swiftly over to the cook and he froze when he saw the bastard simply staring back at him with a sort of confused glint in his otherwise flustered eyes. Zoro blinked, an uneasy feeling jostling his insides. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage and found the feeling slightly odd.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Sanji was still pretty much in the same spot since he'd dozed off, standing in front of the stove, so he guessed it wasn't too long.

Whatever the cook was making smelled pretty good. Not that Zoro could say that about the chef's taste in music, however. His eyes sought out the jazz music that was still floating around them, coming from a small radio-transponder snail on Sanji's counter.

Mind boggling, Zoro let his eyes roam from the snail and across the counter, trying to ignore the cook's gaze and the music that was still playing over him. He tried with all his might to clear his head from the images that raced behind his eyelids. Zoro breathed out a harsh breath and allowed his thoughts to stale. He'd been having weird dreams lately, and they left him frustratingly rattled.

They were dreams that he hadn't had for years, and they came paired with disturbing thoughts that he hadn't thought about for at least twice that long.

Zoro forced himself to swallow the tangy saliva that was gathering near the base of his tongue when his eyes caught Sanji again. The cook was just standing there, well, standing there and giving him a look that was simply unsettling. Zoro shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Got a problem, Crap-cook?" His voice was a croak that had Sanji snapping out of the daze he'd fallen into. He tore his eyes away from Zoro so fast his whole body turned slightly along with the motion, as if he hadn't realized that he'd been staring in the first place.

"Should be asking you the same thing, idiot." Sanji murmured, sounding forcedly at ease. "Don't fall asleep in my kitchen."

Zoro gave the blonde a weary look, and his gaze switched to the cook's hand as it delicately twirled around some silver spoon thingy in a pan. "Guess I wouldn't if you weren't so dang boring." He muttered, voice tinged with slightly a bit more normalcy. Zoro could physically feel his heartbeat beginning to slow from where it thumped oddly inside his chest.

Watching the cook do his job was a very bad way for one to clear their mind, the swordsman decided. He'd seen Sanji cook before, an array of foods, an entire banquet, and it could be quite a show. But now, the cook's movements were repetitive and lack-luster. They were... well, boring, and it didn't help his mind shift away from the shaken state that his dream had abandoned him with.

He needed to distract himself. Badly. Maybe if he could just get the cook riled up. Then maybe he could forget about his disturbing sleep patterns for a moment. Zoro breathed in, then out, and concentrated his gaze on Sanji, waiting for the cook to turn his way again, and racking his brain for ways to provoke the chef.

Zoro thought about just tiptoeing over to the pantry and grabbing a bottle of booze to help him think while the cook's back was still turned when Sanji chose that moment to glance back over his shoulder.

Zoro sat rigid. His booze stealing plan momentarily foiled.

The cook's stirring ceased.

"I'm not boring, bastard, I happen to be cooking food for your loud-mouth." Sanji grunted, pursing his lips and inching two fingers towards them as if reaching for something, before stopping halfway. The chef's hand dove back to the whisk and he clutched it tightly in his right fist, stirring double time. "I don't see you doing anything useful." He growled.

Zoro cocked an eyebrow at the curly cook then, willing the insults to gather on his tongue. "Oh sorry Princess, would you like me to entertain you?" He baited.

Unfortunately, the bait was left to dangle. Sanji only stepped away from his spot at the stove again, leaning against his crutch, and casually reached over to press the dial on the radio-snail. The fast paced saxophones quit blaring and the "music" faded into eerie background noise before ceasing to exist altogether. Zoro swallowed the urge to cheer. "I don't see how you could entertain me anymore if you tried." The quiet comment came from Sanji, who was staring at his cutting board. His one visible curly eyebrow slanted towards the crinkled flesh that appeared where the stem of his straight nose dissolved into smooth forehead.

"What?" Zoro cocked a sharp eyebrow of his own, running a tan hand over his green hair.

Sanji shook himself, "Nothing. Just, eh… peel those."

Zoro met the cook with a deadpan stare at the command. "Peel what?" He asked clueless, looking around.

Sanji swung his crutch out to the side, pointing at a basket of potatoes leaning against the far wall that Zoro had apparently failed to notice. He rolled his eyes skyward.

"Are your hands broken too?" Zoro scoffed. "That little burn didn't render them useless, did it?"

"My hands are just fine, shithead." Sanji snapped back at him, growing tired. "You said you wanted something to do."

Zoro merely sat there. Going motionless. Wanting Sanji to fight with him. To give him something else to think about. If he just sat there and peeled potatoes, his mind would surely wander to thoughts that he wasn't ready to think about yet. The light banter between them was keeping him sane, at least. Even though the cook was acting a little weirder than usual.

"Look, if all you're going to do is sit there like a lump and complain, then just go. I'm not in the mood."

Zoro caved in on himself a little, not really liking the dismissal that the cook was proposing. That wouldn't do him any good at all. He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and index finger, pressing harshly against his tear ducts. Damn, he was tired. "I'm supposed to be 'helping' you, but I don't see the point in doing stuff for you that you can do yourself." Zoro slurred out around a yawn. "You're just givin' me the shit work to do." He vented, and rested his head in a fist. He watched Sanji flip something in a pan out of the corner of his eye.

He heard Sanji's short bark of laughter, "I definitely don't need your help."

_But, Target-brow, I need yours... get mad! Fight me! What happened to that frustration from earlier? Huh?_

Zoro tensed at the cook's tone, and his own thoughts, immediately becoming defensive. "Yeah, sure you don't need my help. You did just fine back there by yourself while you were searching the storage room."

Sanji grit his teeth, "I didn't see you do anything to help me, asshole. I fell anyways."

"I got you a bag of flour."

"Yeah, that really helped a whole bunch."

Zoro shrugged, seeing it as a good deed in his own mind. "Could've been worse. At least you didn't break your neck," he smirked, "Although that would've been kinda funny…" The swordsman provoked, trailing. There was suddenly a funny taste in his mouth. Zoro wasn't really given the time of day to explore the odd flavor or feeling he was currently experiencing before the cook made another rebuttal.

"Oh, go to hell."

_That's it. A little fire. _Zoro snorted, "Sure, right after you."

"Stop that!" Sanji hissed. He needed a cigarette and he needed it bad. He scratched irritably at his neck, tugging at his ear lobe. Zoro was just making his day even worse, and Sanji thought that was pretty much impossible by now. He couldn't imagine why he had thought that sparring with the swordsman earlier would have helped relieve his frustration in the first place. The swordsman was currently the number one cause of the cook's frustration.

In fact, Sanji considered the fact that this was entirely the swordsman's fault to begin with. If he hadn't started a fight with the Marimo then Nami-swan wouldn't have gotten upset, and he wouldn't have gone into the storage room at all to look for recipe cards that were still MIA. Sanji clenched a fist, leaning heavily on his crutch.

Plus, if Zoro wouldn't have been dreaming most of the night, screaming out and thrashing about in his bunk, then Sanji _might _have actually gotten a good night's rest. Luffy's snores and Usopp's gas passing aside, the fact that he was kept awake was clearly a fault of the swordsman. And if he wasn't so tired, or so _stressed _right now, then he wouldn't be _having the worst withdrawal cravings _in the mother fucking _world_!

And to top it all off, the stupid Moss-for-brains idiot had just fallen asleep_ again_ and was saying even more weird shit! And Sanji didn't _like_ it! The pained expressions and the fear and the whimpers and the panting coming from _Zoro_, of all people, had confused the cook even further. Fuck, he didn't know what to do for the swordsman. He didn't know if the man was having shitty nightmares or not. And the worst part was that Zoro seemed to not even fucking _realize_ that he was so obviously displaying this so-called psychological trip to the world around him. Fuck this! Sanji hated the world right now!

Then there was his _foot_! Which hurt like a _bitch_! And he couldn't even kick anyone's ass with it! Then there was the fact that Zoro was provoking the shit out of him. Seeming like he wanted to fight with him. Sanji wasn't in the mood. He was confused, and frustrated, and so damn put-out. He just wanted a _break!_

Zoro watched the cook with increasing alertness. Something in his stance had just shifted. There was a rage that Sanji was radiating now that Zoro wasn't entirely sure either of them could handle right then. He pressed his lips firmly together, noticing how Sanji's fingers twitched ever-so-slightly before balling up into a fist again and again. And as the cork in the cook's anger bottle seemed to grow and strain with a pressure that seemed about to break, Zoro found himself growing strangely submissive. For a moment he thought about backing off.

He shook off the bizarre feeling that was like little white flags popping up in his mind and telling him to surrender, and just keep his mouth shut.

Zoro squashed the sensation that Sanji was done joking around, and just took it like any other battle. He was certainly not going to lose to the crap cook. No backing down. No surrendering. "What is it cook, your busted leg doesn't make that much of a difference," Zoro said, he still felt some strange warning, telling him to hesitate, to not provoke. "It just means that you're at an even bigger disadvantage towards me than usual."

_Oh that did it. Don't go there, Zoro. I might kill you._

_Come on, Sanji. Quit playing around now. Just start something._

_I don't think you can give me the relief I need, sword-boy._

_Give me some sort of relief, Cook!_

Sanji grit his teeth, he narrowed his eye and glared at Zoro. Their eyes met, fiery blue clashing with sharp steel. "This is your fault, you bastard."

Sanji saw Zoro's smirk dissolve, replaced by something that looked like confusion. A green eyebrow arched slightly.

The mood in the room felt suddenly dangerous. Zoro felt like their little spat was becoming all too serious. "Hey, accidents happen, Princess." he joked airily. "It's not your fault you trip over your own two feet." He laughed, but the sound was hollow. He was intent on studying Sanji's expression, the way his face flushed and nostrils flared with every breath.

The fuse was lit.

"Shut your mouth!" An uncomfortable stare was shared between them. And then Sanji snapped. "I'm not going to lose to someone weak like you!"

There was the tell tale signs of composure cracking.

"Why don't you just go jump overboard, or better yet, just give up. You can throw yourself off Sunny's stairs right outside, like in your dreams!"

Everything went quiet for a moment as Sanji's words echoed around the room and sunk in. Whatever insult Zoro had ready to throw back at the cook died before it reached his lips. An uncomfortable air ghosted through the kitchen, and Zoro waited a moment before standing from his seat at the table.

"What did you just say?"

"Last night, _"No the stairs! They'll get you!" _dreaming about some stair-monster or something?" Sanji chuckled hollowly, mimicking the phrase he'd heard Zoro spouting in the too-early hours of the morning.

Zoro felt the ghost of a shiver run down his spine. He didn't know he'd said anything out loud. Images of that nightmare came back with a vengeance, mixing and mingling with the one he'd just had at the dinner table. _Shit. _Zoro cast his eyes down at the table, fingers splayed wide against the wooden surface. _Stop, Sanji. I don't wanna fight this way. I have to get out. _

Sanji watched the green haired man very carefully. The swordsman seemed to be taking the insult on a personal level. He was suddenly unsure if Zoro was going to physically attack him or not. Shit, did he really say that? Mocking a man's dreams? Had he really stooped so low? _I don't even know if I can be sorry, Zoro. No backing out now._

Zoro avoided eye contact with the cook as he stood. _This is it,_ Sanji thought. _There was going to finally be some bloodshed,_ and much to Sanji's confusion, the moss-head turned away and headed for the door. The sound of Zoro's heavy boots against the floor was the only sound for a while, and Sanji swallowed as the swordsman's hand stopped on the handle to exit.

"Hey, what the hell?"

"That was too far." Zoro offered quietly, and Sanji thought he'd heard a tremor shake the other's voice. "How… how did you even know about that?"

"Oh what, you think you're silent all the time when you sleep?" Sanji spat quietly, and then swallowed, feeling shallow and disgusted with himself. He was still surprised at how Zoro was reacting to his words, as if they dripped poison. "Kept me up half the night last night, shouting about "no the stairs" and "won't lose anymore"" Sanji saw the swordsman flinch and felt a dangerous vibe fizzle in a line between Zoro and himself. He thought about telling his tongue to just shut up, even though his pride wasn't listening. He didn't know what was so wrong with what he'd said, but it was obvious he'd hit a nerve… or twenty nerves from the way the color had suddenly drained from the swordsman's face.

"So, why didn't you wake me up then… if I was bothering you?" Zoro whispered.

"You try to wake you up! It ain't easy piss-face." Sanji threw up his hands, he didn't really see why the subject was so touchy. Just another thing to jab Zoro's pride with in Sanji's eyes.

The swordsman acting like he'd just had a hole stabbed through his heart should have been some indication for Sanji to back off, but the blonde was having too much fun to simply back down now.

"You had no right to say that. You don't know anything about that…"

"What is it, a little spooked from a stupid little nightmare? What'd you dream about, shove someone down the stairs with your lousy excuse for swordplay? Grow the hell up already, wuss."

Zoro stood a little straighter, a little more stiff. "Sanji, what the hell is up with you?"

_I'm having one hell of a rotten day, Zoro. You should just walk out now. Walk out before I say something I'll really regret. I can't help myself. _Sanji thought, but instead bit out, "If you can't take the heat, stay out of my kitchen."

"Don't provoke me, Cook. I'll skewer you," Zoro hissed. His fingers were itching to grab his sword. He could hear the cursed blade at his hip singing for blood.

Zoro swallowed, humiliated, and like a flash an invisible shield was up around him. He had to protect himself. Sanji's words, his tone, his anger, making Zoro wish he'd never tried to get the cook to fight with him in the first place. It was...

Zoro took a step towards the cook, warning him away. What he'd said… the cook didn't know anything at all! It was...

Sanji scoffed, "Watch it, swordsman."

...just too far.

"No, _you _watch it!" Sanji winced at the feral tone. It was hard for Zoro to swallow around that strange heavy feeling forming in his chest. His blood was pumping adrenaline through his veins, making his breathing heavy and labored. He didn't need this; shouldn't be feeling this way because of a member of his own Nakama. It was just Sanji, the retard was just saying shit, just mocking him. They jabbed at each other all the time. But this time, Zoro could hear the spite in the cook's voice unmistakably. The cruelty in his words was uncalled for. Sanji had crossed a too real and too personal barrier, and Zoro had had enough.

"You went too far."

"Oh cry me a damn river. Fine, I won't talk about those _scary stairs _anymore, Marimo. You can use the crow's nest instead. It's a lot higher and less bumpy."

The cook didn't know what had possessed him to say such shit to his crewmate. He knew he was just begging for a slap in the face. And maybe he was secretly hoping for one, he'd deserved it by now.

_Stop it. Stop it. Sanji, dammit..!_

Sanji bit his tongue when he saw Zoro's body hunch a little, curling in on itself just the slightest bit.

And Sanji didn't understand himself. He respected, fought with, stood by, and would protect Zoro with his life. But here Sanji was, stepping over fine lines. His anger from earlier that day just refused to be quelled, and he couldn't calm down. He felt some sort of need to share his pissed off feelings with the world, give the swordsman half his burdens, just so he didn't feel the stinging loneliness that bad luck had graced him with.

Sanji reached toward his pocket again, almost tasting that sweet tang of nicotine against his taste buds. But before the chef knew what was happening, he was up against the sink; Zoro's arm was across his chest, pinning him to the prep counter. He felt the cutting board shift with the impact and the corner was now digging sharply into his back. That didn't hold a candle to the sharp side of a sword, however. Zoro had the weapon tilted slightly, pressing up against Sanji's throat.

Sanji's breath hitched. He panicked. Zoro's eyes were covered in shadows and his breaths were panting.

He hadn't even seen the swordsman move. He didn't hear Zoro pull out his blade. He wasn't able to detect the murderous aura as it was building up, that was now cloaked around the swordsman so heavily it was like he'd been marinated in it.

"Oi, Moss-head wha…"

"Shut up. You bastard, just shut up." Zoro's voice was low, and snarling. Sanji felt the blade shift a little against his neck, being angled a little deeper and scraping against his tender flesh. He knew Zoro wouldn't cut him unless he wanted to, but judging by how serious and offended Zoro seemed now, and how stiff his muscles were, arm flexing and breath coming in short pants, Sanji doubted that Zoro would hesitate to slice his head off.

It dawned on Sanji that he really couldn't do much to defend himself in the position that Zoro had him locked in. His broken foot was uselessly hanging above the ground and he had to use the other for balance. From the angle the swordsman was shoving him; he couldn't even raise his knee to a decent height.

Sanji's blue eyes widened by themselves. "What the hell did I even say?"

"You know what you said, dammit!"

The blade twisted against his throat in answer, making it impossible for the cook to swallow.

Sanji shivered, he could see his crutch lying on the floor at his side, just out of reach. Maybe if he had some kind of weapon, Zoro slitting his throat wouldn't seem as pathetic, since it'd look like he was at least trying to defend himself. If he could get to a knife, then… Sanji snaked his arm back slowly, dipping it into the old, soapy dishwater and searching for anything he could use to defend himself if he needed to.

The tips of his fingers brushed against the four points of a fork and his fist curled around its' handle. _Better than nothing_.

"I was just saying shit. Just to piss you off, asshole!" Sanji ground out, barely whispering now, trying not to move a muscle. "You were dreaming last night, and kept screaming about stairs and falling, I don't know, I was just fucking. Quoting. _You. _" He winced when he'd accidentally put too much weight on his injured ankle.

Zoro's blood ran cold. "Well looks like you fucking win then!" Zoro clenched his teeth together so hard he swore he'd heard something crack, but ignored it, too busy fighting the urge to plunge his sword deep into Sanji's neck. His fist was shaking violently and the cook was trembling right along with it. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what happened."

With one of the cook's hands gripping the small dinner fork, Sanji raised his other one. The burned and freshly bandaged hand came up to grip the front of Zoro's t-shirt. It stung. Sanji held on anyways, clenching more of the fabric between his fist and wrinkling it, while pressing against Zoro's hard chest, trying to get the demonic swordsman to back off.

"What did I say?" Sanji asked again, and Zoro's sword fell away a half an inch. He heard the swordsman's breath catch, his chest rumbled beneath the cook's hand. When the swordsman finally tilted his head up, Sanji could see his eyes. They were glistening- wet and red.

"Oh God, you're crying." Sanji murmured, stunned. "You're really fucking crying."

"Not crying." Zoro muttered back, his voice shaky and deceiving, he sounded hurt, betrayed, "I just forgot for a second, what getting cut feels like."

Sanji stared, confused, and the swordsman's eyes slid away, past him to look into the sink. He slid the blade away too, relief flooding the cook when it left without a slice. But Sanji didn't miss the shell-shocked look on the swordsman's face as he turned with his blade, as if realizing what had just happened. Zoro was obviously surrendering their battle. "Out of anything I might have ever said, you just had to choose to repeat that. To disrespect _that_…"

"Zoro…"

"Drop it. It isn't worth it, Cook. You don't know. You were just picking a fight. Wouldn't have said anything if you knew. I think." Zoro repeated. The mantra he was muttering seemed to be more for his own benefit than for Sanji to hear.

"Hey…" Sanji trailed. Damn it. Could anything good happen today? Any good at all? Sanji ground his teeth together, wishing for a cigarette, needing an escape. What the hell had he said to make Zoro so upset? He saw the swordsman sheath his sword and wipe his eyes across the back of his arm.

Maybe… maybe someone really did die.

Sanji suddenly wanted to kick himself. But he couldn't even do that with his leg all messed up.

Damn it. "I'm sorry Zoro, okay. For… for whatever." Sanji threw the fork back into the soapy dish water, creating a small splash. "I'm sorry. I guess I went too far. I'm just having one hell of a bad day." He tugged at his hair, his head aching. "Shit."

Zoro turned back around, watching the hot-tempered blonde through wounded eyes. The color had yet to return to his face, and he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. He sighed at Sanji's swift apology and smoothed a hand across his chest, fixing his tussled shirt.

So, the tetchy little blonde had let his anger get the best of him. Zoro was still having trouble trying to calm his own body. His heart was still pounding. Zoro thought heavily for a few seconds and then cleared his throat. "You should learn to hold your tongue better… when someone is serious about something… like that. Maybe learn to keep shit to yourself."

"Oh give me a break. It's _you _Zoro. We say shit to each other all the time, how am I supposed to know what to not say to you?" Sanji was still tugging at his hair, his features stressed and guilt-ridden. Looking like a kicked puppy, or a mutt, in Zoro's opinion.

"Maybe you could try thinking before you open your mouth?" Zoro snipped.

Sanji buried his face in his hands, and groaned, "Oh that's rich, coming from you of all people."

Zoro's eyes narrowed at him. "When have I ever mocked something so obviously personal to you before?"

"I don't know!" Sanji yelled. Then forced his voice to quiet. He was too worked up. Too confused. "I don't know, okay. What do you want from me?"

"Well,_ I_ know that if you'd said something like that to anyone else on this ship, and it wasn't me, they'd already be out this door or your face would be broken in half. Take your damn pick, Sanji." Zoro jeered, and Sanji melted a little more inside. "I don't know what's gotten into you. Maybe it's just been too long between islands, but… there can't be tension like this around the ship. Luffy doesn't need that, and neither does anyone else."

Sanji bristled. He knew that already. He knew he'd messed up. Zoro didn't need to keep reminding him! "Fuck you. Preaching to me like that. You don't know how frustrating it is to…"

"To what? Huh? To be at a disadvantage, to be messed with, to lose, to feel ashamed, embarrassed, backstabbed, lied to? Which one is it? To feel fucking weak?" Zoro roared back in his face, startling the poor blonde and causing Sanji to knock his casted foot into the cabinets that he was still leaning against. "Yeah, I do. I know what all of that feels like. We've all been there. I know what weakness feels like, Cook. Why do you think I train so much? I train to win, to protect this crew, to protect _you_. You asshole." Zoro was facing him again, dying fire smoldering in his eyes. He grabbed a hold of Sanji's mortified gaze and didn't let the cook look away.

"I lost something for you today, cook, I don't know what it is yet. I don't know." The swordsman's tone was hollow and seemed uncaring as he addressed Sanji. But the cook knew it was just a façade, just the way that Zoro sounded when he really meant what he was saying. Always the calm and loyal swordsman. "But if you don't do something to fix this mess you've started then you won't get it back, either."

Sanji felt a heated prickle behind his eyelids, his foot was aching badly from when Zoro had pressed him against the sink and forced him to move it. Sanji was frozen in shame and guilt at knowing just how right Zoro actually was. He wasn't Luffy's first mate for nothing. He'd earned his rank because he was strong, because he wouldn't let the universe fuck with him and get under his skin. Sanji swallowed and bit his bottom lip as Zoro opened his mouth to speak again.

"You're mad Sanji, I get that. But so what, you snapped your ankle? Cuts bleed, and breaks hurt. But they both heal, Shitty Cook. Scars, on the other hand, don't bleed. They can't heal. They're just there. For forever."

Zoro pushed the door open then, and paused. "The stairs dream. Yeah, it's an old scar of mine too. The person who fell down the stairs was a friend of mine. And she did die. I carry her sword as a promise to win, so maybe someday she won't see me as weak." There was a thick silence that fell around them, even the seagulls pausing in their calls. "Thanks for reminiscing that with me, Cook. Thanks a fucking lot."

Sanji couldn't breathe. Zoro walked out on deck without a backwards glance, leaving him alone. The world seemed to come to life again with the swordsman's departure. The wind picked up, making the seagulls call out as they rode the gales. The sounds of Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper running around the deck sounded in the distance. A hammer pounding nails into wooden planks. The faint rustles of map and history book pages being leafed through by soft, manicured hands. And heavy steps of offended boots faded further and further away.

But Sanji, he couldn't do anything but stand silently, a chill seeping into his galley, as he watched the door swing shut.

_You didn't have to go there, Sanji. You asshole._

_You brought it there, Marimo. Dammit. _

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Knead together is one large bowl:

1 broken ankle

1 demented assistant

29 mouthfuls of crafted insults.

2 colorfully forming bruises.

1 shaker full of fresh ground pepper.

1 ½ tsp. Mocking Insults

A pinch of forgotten conscience

1 thoroughly beaten heart (preferably a swordsman's)

Beat, Blend, and Tenderize well.

This is a cook's recipe for Revenge.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And boy, did it taste bitter. Sanji thought he'd forgotten to add the sugar somewhere in there…

* * *

TBC~

Oh. Dear.

Well, I've got a few massages asking if this story will be yaoi, and I don't have a good answer. I apologize for that. The truth is, I have not decided yet, as I'm more comfortable writing friendshippy fics, but it can always turn into something unexpected. It sort of depends how the plot thickens. If there is anything more than Nakama-shipping in this fiction it will most likely be slow moving. I hope that doesn't damper your spirits. But I will give a shout out at the beginning of the chapter that it appears in, if it does at all.

Reviews make me "smile like the sun, fall out of bed, sing like a bird"…"dizzy in my head" – I love that song. ("Smile" by Uncle Kracker) E-hem, I'd like to hear from you, pretty please?

Until next time~


	3. C2: Hold Together This Broken Bubble

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own One Piece, nor do I claim to. This fiction is for entertainment purposes only._

_**Warnings: **__Angst. !Strong! Language._

_**Note: **_I'm sorry it's been so long now. Two someones very precious to me recently passed away and I've been unable to pour out any sort of decent writing at all. The hurt doesn't vanish, but I'm told that it dulls with time. And all of you readers are so kind; it's because of your kind words that I've finally managed to get the chapters rolling. This one's extra extra long to make up for the terrible wait. (and because it just didn't feel right cutting it… I'm sorry..) Forgive its awkwardness and seriousness.

On a happier note, I celebrated a birthday. Getting old is so exciting... (sighs) Here's some of the funnier wishes I received from lovable people.

_**A:**__ Two tips on your birthday:_

_ 1) Forget the past, you can't change it.  
2) Forget the present, I didn't get you one._

_**B:**__ There were a lot of famous people born on your birthday. Too bad you aren't one._

Wouldn't that just make you feel oh-so-special? XD. Made me laugh though. Oh! I'd also like to thank you all for your kind reviews, PMs, faves, and alerts! They mean a lot more to me than you can imagine. Any feedback is appreciated and comforting.

Alright, enough rambling. Please, enjoy this overdue chapter! _**This chapter has been severely edited from it's originally posted version.**_

* * *

**A Cook's Recipe For:**

Chapter Two: _As You Hold Together This Broken Bubble_

* * *

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_Hold together, in the palm of your hand_

_a bubble_

_and don't forget to look for signs_

_telling you that it's_

_about to break_

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

Sanji had come to the troubling conclusion that Revenge didn't taste as sweet as he'd originally thought it would.

"_Cuts bleed, and breaks hurt. But they both heal. __Scars, on the other hand, don't bleed. They can't heal. They're just there. For forever.__"_

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

Chop:

1 leafy stalk of bruised celery

2 raw chunks of guilt

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

Sanji's life was not going according to his plans. He was now convinced that he had been thoroughly reduced to being God's punching bag. So, someone had died. Sanji was guilty of mocking the dead. If he wasn't going to Hell before, he assumed that was his destination now.

The minute Zoro had stormed away from the galley, Sanji had to admit, he had a little trouble focusing afterwards.

He didn't even know how he was supposed to feel. He felt like shit. That was the most prominent.

And the worst part was that he wasn't even sure how to apologize, or even if he should, which just made him even more confused and angry and shitty feeling.

He tried to put all his pent up anger into cooking, but that just caused one catastrophe after another.

He tried, in vain, to poach an egg.

The shells ended up in his boiling water and the yolk ended up sliding down the glass front of his oven door. He cursed as it fell to the floor in a big goopy puddle, and when he bent over to clean it up, he was reminded of his cruelty. He could envision his words flinging from his mouth like daggers; could picture the sharp letters flying towards his defenseless crewmate and stabbing through him. Then the swordsman's proverbial blood was spilt all over the kitchen's freshly polished floorboards and left for Sanji to mop up.

Imaginary blood was a bitch to clean up. Much like the egg that kept slipping through and around Sanji's sponge. Soap suds were surrounding the little yellow yolk demon like some sort of force field, preventing the cook from the clean floor that he so desired.

Shit. That was bad.

He didn't know someone had died! He was just teasing. Or so he thought. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Zoro hated him. _That _was for sure. Sanji wasn't sure why that thought bothered him so much, but right now he hated himself too.

Zoro also said he'd lost something for him. What the hell did that even mean?

He didn't know how he'd managed to kick himself while he was down, and with a broken foot to boot, but he was certainly doing a good job of it. Sanji closed his eyes. It's not like the swordsman was being perfectly reasonable either. Pestering Sanji while he was having such a rotten day to begin with. Sanji wasn't the only one in the wrong.

So, Sanji had said some shit. Probably stirred up memories and emotions that were better left suppressed, but it's not like he _knew _what he was doing.

_Then why did I keep bringing it up?_ Sanji's conscience asked. He figured his subconscious probably knew that would rile the swordsman up. That was all. He was just bickering with Zoro. Just like always. Didn't mean anything by it. At first he'd thought the swordsman was just simply embarrassed he'd been caught dreaming with his guard down. He just found something somehow appealing about the way Zoro reacted to the words he'd spouted. There was a vulnerability that made Sanji pause. It was a curious thing. He wasn't used to seeing Zoro like that. The swordsman was usually an emotionless fucktard. So when Sanji had gotten the reaction that he did out of Zoro… well, he just couldn't help himself but keep going.

It made Zoro seem more 3-dimensional in the cook's eyes.

When he'd hit that nerve, Sanji saw strong fortress walls crumble!

Damn, Sanji was a sick bastard. Liking to see the agony in Zoro's stony eyes. Well, not _liking_ it exactly… but, something… it was relatable. And relatable was something that Sanji and Zoro were not with each other.

But now Sanji felt like an asshole. And now that Sanji knew something so personal about the swordsman, it was confusing. He didn't know what to do with the information. It felt forbidden that he should even be allowed a glimpse of the swordsman's past. Zoro didn't know about Sanji's past, and Sanji didn't know about his.

But now that it was out there… it made him a little curious.

Curious about Zoro? The thought itself was ridiculous.

But the thought of a little more depth to the swordsman... it was sort of... Sanji couldn't really put a word to it. It's almost like he had a sudden craving for a second helping.

Yeah, he needed a cigarette.

Sanji frowned, realizing he couldn't beat his addiction anymore. His craving for nicotine was coursing through his veins and making him itchy. That had to be why his eyes were watering slightly and why his thoughts were so strange. No other reason.

He _definitely_ needed a cigarette and he needed one badly. He placed one crutch under his arm and turned the heat down on the stove. He had twelve smokes left, and Nami-swan said they'd most likely dock in roughly four days. That wasn't so bad. Besides that, the painkillers that Chopper had given him earlier were starting to wear off, and so it was the perfect time for a smoke.

He started for the galley door only to stop halfway.

Zoro was out there… somewhere, Sanji realized.

And Sanji wasn't sure what to do. Should he apologize? Should he let things simmer. An unmistakable lump of fear lodged itself in Sanji's throat, the necktie around his neck making it that much more unbearable.

He figured if he did run into the swordsman now, Zoro was going to kill him. Quite possibly without warning.

Sanji was going to die prematurely.

He shut his eyes tightly and exhaled through his nose. Zoro was out there, and he was stuck in here. Unless the cook had a death wish he knew that venturing out there now was much too risky. Sanji normally knew how to pick his battles, but today, he was pretty sure he wouldn't get lucky enough to win any battle. Not even a hand-picked one.

Sanji hopped back a step and hobbled over to the table. He sat in the wooden chair with a thud. The same wooden chair that the swordsman had been sitting in earlier. It was turned at an angle towards the wall, slanted from when the swordsman had knocked it back when he'd stood up in his rage. Sanji felt a cold chill run down his spine.

This was ridiculous. Was he honestly afraid of Zoro? It wasn't really his fault the shithead couldn't take an insult. They were just fighting words. Who cared if they were personal attacks, Zoro had used some of Sanji's personal shit against _him _before, so why should this time be any different?

Okay, maybe they never got that personal. Not personal enough to sting so badly.

Sanji touched his teeth with the tip of his tongue, thinking guilty thoughts. He'd just give the sword freak a bottle of booze later, and not the cheap kind. That should be enough. Zoro wasn't really a hard-to-please kind of guy, he was just overreacting.

_But… was he really?_ Sanji asked himself. After all, someone had _died_!

And, Sanji had never seen Zoro like…_that _before. He'd never seen him lose his cool quite like that.

"_She did die, by the way. I carry her sword as a promise to win, so maybe someday she won't see me as weak."_

Zoro's words echoed through his head, startling him. Who in the right mind would think Roronoa Zoro was weak? The guy was a complete freak in fights. A genius. Well, not as good as the cook, Sanji shrugged, but… the swordsman wasn't bad. Certainly not_ weak_, in any case. The cook bit at his lip, a bitter taste was lingering at the back of his throat. He raised a hand to his mouth. "Fuck my life." Sanji swore. He needed a cigarette. With a vengeance, he stood up, scraped his way back towards the galley door, and paused right before opening it. If Zoro was standing on the other side pointing a sword the cook's way, Sanji wouldn't be able to avoid it. It was inevitable. And so who really cared. Sanji welcomed it.

The cook cringed and yanked his wooden shield open. Nothing was there waiting to slice him in half. It somehow, in some way, disappointed him. Sanji convinced himself that he was going a little bit insane. Told himself that tomorrow would be a better day and this one would be forgotten soon enough. He hugged the door frame with the palm of his hand.

Lunch would seriously be lacking today. Sanji gripped his crutch with one hand, held the door with the other and looked back over his shoulder. His eyes leveled with the food he had hastily set out on the table. Small bowls of old man Zeff's version of pot roast. Sanji knew he'd screwed it up along the way. He didn't do something right with the meat. And the sauce had no spice. No pepper. Because he was pissed at it. At least there was a salad. The green leaves were only slightly bitter. Sanji shrugged, it would just have to do.

"Ladies, your taste of love is ready!" and "Lunch, Morons!" left his lips, and before anyone had even arrived, Sanji made his decision to grab a ciggy. While the others were busy eating, he would smoke.

He made his way out on deck and towards the cabins, keeping a wary eye peeled for any blood-thirsty Moss.

He let his eyes run over the deck, scanning from corner to corner, searching for what he didn't want to find. The _Sunny_ was bigger than _Merry_ had been. There were more corners, more hiding spaces. Zoro could be waiting around any one of them for the perfect opportunity to jump out and shred the cook.

"FOOOD!" The cook startled, cowering slightly. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper darted past him without even a backward glance, heading for the galley in giant bounds. Sanji straightened. He rolled his eyes at the absurd sense of dread he was feeling. Wanted to laugh at himself for how jumpy he was being.

"Thank you for making lunch, Sanji-kun. You should be taking it easy though."

Sanji whirled around again, slightly less than paranoid. His foot ached when his muscles tensed, getting ready to defend himself. Sanji cringed and sunk back when he was met with the face of an ang… _two_ angels!

Nami and Robin were heading leisurely down from the grass deck, giving Sanji gentle waves and warm smiles. Sanji's heart was suddenly doing funny things in his chest, a mix of anxious nervousness and anxious love, at thoughts of the swordsman and thoughts of the girls, respectively. "Oh, my loves! It's always a pleasure!" He swooned.

Robin didn't miss the slightly pained look on the gentlemanly cook's face. "How's your leg feeling, Cook-san?"

Sanji sighed and cleared his throat. He glanced just past her shoulder, over long, beautiful, black hair. No idiot there either.

"I've had worse, Robin-chwan~" Sanji sung, "Please don't let me concern you, Beautiful."

"Just take care of yourself, Sanji-kun."

Sanji's split attention zeroed in on the words Nami spoke. Suddenly, nothing else existed except for the two ladies in front of him. "Oh, Nami-swan! You care!" Sanji gushed, Nami's kindness made his heart beat stronger. He grinned when Robin nodded softly to agree. "My dears! It's so kind of you to be so concerned, I don't deserve such love." Sanji moaned in praise.

He was so busy with hearts in his eyes that he missed the familiar gait of a cyborg's heavy footsteps coming to join them. Sanji literally jumped and had to force down a scream when a large arm wrapped itself around his shoulders.

Oh, dear Eneru, this was the end. His whole body tensed horribly. "Look, I'm sorry, don't do anything ra-"

"How you doing, cook-bro?" he heard Franky ask from his left.

Sanji froze. The apology, or the pleading, hanging dead from his lips in his horribly rushed pardons. He deflated slowly.

"Oh, it's just you, Franky." Sanji struggled to steady himself against Franky's broad chest. "Just fine." He seethed. "You didn't have to sneak up on me like that, you shitty tin-can."

"Sorry, Bro. My sneaking skills must be in super tip-top condition today!" Franky sweat dropped. The cook seemed a little more defensive than usual.

"It's fine." Sanji dismissed. His eyes were sweeping the deck again, going from the grass deck to the staircase to the water barrels in the corner. "Please, go enjoy yourselves, before those pigs eat it all. The three stooges are already in there." Sanji hoisted a thumb back towards his galley. His gaze froze on the anchor, slowly wandering to the large coils of rope resting beneath it. Sanji had never thought about how unsafe the deck actually seemed. Zoro could hang him from the riggings. Dice him like a piñata. He made careful note not to go near the anchor.

Sanji gulped. Franky touched his arm again and he half-jumped, almost losing what little balance he had.

"Easy there," The older shipwright steadied his cook, "Ah, you need anything? Looks like you're looking for something, Bro."

Sanji relaxed in Franky's grip and regained his balance with his crutch. He straightened, then slowly shook his head, blonde locks going slightly askew. "No, just left something downstairs." He said back. Maybe Zoro was down in the bunkroom already. Sanji seriously hoped that wasn't the case. His eyes glanced upwards. Zoro could be in the crow's nest, working out in the new gym.

Well, wherever he was didn't matter. Sanji decided. He was going to get that smoke if it was the last thing he did. He took a step in the direction for the door to the cabins once more, preparing to go as fast as his hobble would allow, and ignored the tiny voice in his head that said, _getting that smoke actually _could _be the last thing you ever do._

"Cook-bro, you doing okay? You look a little upset."

Sanji paused.

"I'm just not having a great day."

"Anything I can do, Bro?"

"Save me?" Sanji murmured.

"What?"

Sanji sighed, "Nothing. Have you seen Moss-head around anywhere?"

"Eh, Sword-bro? I thought he was helpin' you out in the galley."

"That's what I was afraid of." He muttered again.

Franky tilted his head, "What was that?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Sanji placated, he waved a hand in Franky's direction, "Just go grab some food, I'll be there in a bit." Sanji called distractedly back to his newest Nakama, and waved softly to the ladies, which were still present.

The girls eyed him for a moment curiously before looking past him as if something strange had caught their eye. Sanji whipped his head around so fast his neck gave a little crack in protest. He cursed under his breath, and by the time Sanji was able to look around, he didn't see anything at all, only the girl's mild shrugs at each other. He huffed.

Stupid, shitty-faced, Marimo.

"You sure you're alright, Sanji?" Nami asked, a little disbelievingly.

Sanji glanced up, and the gazes that were aimed at him now did nothing to please the cook's mood. There was pity from the man beside him and concern from the girls in front of him and it made his pride sink just a tad lower.

Sanji put on the most charming smile he could muster, and he didn't miss the way it seemed to strain the muscles of his cheeks. It felt so forced that Sanji didn't know how the girls were able to return smiles of their own. "I assure you, I am."

"If you're sure, then we'll meet you at lunch?" Robin asked.

And Sanji nodded, thankful for Robin's ability to sense just what the Cook needed to hear. "I'll join you in a moment, my loves!" He cooed giddily at them, and they waved back.

He heard the aqua-haired half human turn around a little hesitantly, but a small, "Super!" sounded out anyways, and it wasn't long before the galley door whispered shut behind it.

Sanji was left alone on the deck again. Or so he hoped.

There was still no sign of the Moss Head. It troubled Sanji more than it probably should.

Sanji made it down to the men's quarters, surprisingly, without incident. The room was lifeless, and Zoro was nowhere to be seen. Sanji breathed a huge sigh of relief. If nothing else, Zoro not being there could definitely be counted as something good that happened to him that day. Sanji grinned half-heartedly, opened his suit closet and gripped his last pack greedily. He was about to take one out, but thought better of it and ended up shoving the entire box into his pocket before turning and heading back towards the stairs.

He stumbled on his way up. It figured.

When he returned to lunch, precious cigarette box nestled safely in his shirt pocket, the galley was a little less than chaos. Luffy was tearing into the food faster than anyone else could grab it. Normal. But, something was nagging at him. There was a vacant chair at the table. He noticed Zoro wasn't there.

Sanji never smoked his cigarette.

Zoro never came.

Sanji didn't look for him.

Zoro missed lunch.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Grate:

1 nasty urge to vomit

6 Aspirin

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

'_Look at him, it's like he doesn't even care.'_

'_I haven't seen him shed a single tear!'_

'_Everyone has a different way of grieving.'_

'_He's probably happy now. After all, she won't be around to beat him!'_

'_You're weak, Zoro.'_

Zoro woke up in a cold sweat, gasping. He could feel warm air swirling against his cheek that felt too much like someone's breath and not enough like the gentle breeze blowing around him. It felt like something was crawling against his face! Zoro swiftly brought up a hand and hastily tried to swipe the feeling away.

Skin met skin and his hand came away empty and dry. It frustrated him and relieved him in the same way.

The swordsman sat up from where he was resting and found himself against the base of the fore mast. His neck ached dully from being in such a weird position for so long. He was propped against the back half, facing the railing instead of the rest of the deck so he couldn't see anyone, and in turn, no one would be able to see him. It was curiously quiet. Zoro didn't even remember sitting down here or falling asleep, but the sun was now high in the blue sky, signaling that it was probably past lunchtime.

He vaguely wondered if he'd missed the call to come and eat, but brushed it away just as quickly, not feeling hungry at all.

Old voices that were crisp in his dream just a few moments ago were slowly fading, being replaced by the memories flitting around in his mind of that morning and his fight with the cook. Sanji's words: _'I'm not going to lose to someone weak like you!' _Zoro scowled hard. The ache in his chest was growing like a festering wound and Zoro knew he had to put a stop to it before he just reacted badly and killed the next thing that walked in his path.

'_You're weak Zoro.'_

'_You're weak Zoro.'_

'_You're weak Zoro.'_

The soft voice that echoed through his head was soft and haunting. Kuina. Why was this happening again? This was the third time in a row since yesterday. He hadn't had nightmares about Kuina's death since after running into Mihawk way back in East Blue. But even then they didn't last long, too much was going on with Luffy and their adventures on their voyage towards the Grand Line.

Maybe that was the reason. Action had been taking a backseat lately. The islands they'd been docking at were mostly calm. Zoro was actually starting to enjoy them. Instead of finding their island dockings boring and uneventful he found them relaxing and always pictured them as sort of a calm-before-the-storm type of events.

Maybe he just needed one big adventure. A big bang to take this all away. A distraction.

He dug a thumb into his temple and held it there until he began seeing black spots forming behind his eyes. The black bubbles turned into red and then green halos when he closed his eyelids.

He just had to wait this out. Even though, everything was beginning to feel a little too heavy.

He breathed out a relaxing breath. He needed to keep himself busy. Then life would get back to normal.

He needed to train.

Needed to feel that pleasant burn and delicious pain that went hand-in-hand with a hard workout.

Needed to get stronger. Less weak. He just needed to get _stronger_. That's why he was having bad dreams. That's why Sanji was grating on his every nerve.

Sanji. Asshole, demented cook. Stupid curlicue. It just made Zoro even angrier that he allowed the cook to get under his skin so badly. The cook was just all talk. Fuck him.

Zoro thought that he could have handled the cook's jibes better than he had. There was no need to get all homicidal on Sanji. But the stupid dart-head was pushing it. The things he'd said had _hurt_! Especially at that moment. After it was so fresh in Zoro's mind. But Zoro should have been able to handle it! Shouldn't have shown stupid emotions to Sanji, of all people!

'_You're weak Zoro.'_

He sure did feel like it.

Zoro's eyes glanced upwards. The crow's nest was right above him. His weights were in there. Slowly he stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and with a force that wasn't fully anger and half way beyond desperate, he began climbing up the pegged ladder. To train. To get stronger. To forget.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Peel:

1 empty chair

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Monkey D. Luffy was not the brightest crayon in the box. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Or the brightest bulb on the tree. There were a lot of things that Luffy didn't understand. His Nakama was one of the few things that he did understand. So it was safe to say that Zoro was on a rampage. He wasn't smashing the ship apart or slicing things in two, but he _was _flooding the ship with his sweat.

Luffy's eyes were stuck warily on the crow's nest, where sounds of his swordsman tossing weights around were unmistakable. He cocked his head to the side, thought about how much longer dinner would be, and then cocked his head to the other side before turning fully towards Usopp.

"What's up with him?" Luffy asked the sharpshooter.

Usopp shrugged. He didn't know what was bugging the swordsman, but if he had to guess he was pretty sure it had something to do with Sanji. Since Zoro had missed lunch and Sanji hadn't even made a big deal about it. Usually Sanji would make a huge fuss at the mere mention of someone on board missing a meal. This time however, the skirt-chasing chef had seemed almost relieved that Zoro didn't show up to eat. "Probably just fighting with Sanji again, like always." He guessed.

Luffy made a face, he took his hat off, dusted his hand across the brim. "Do you think dinner will be ready soon?"

Usopp shook his head at his friend's belly-aching. "We just finished lunch!" He gnashed.

"But I bet Zoro's still hungry!" The words directed at Usopp weren't really made for him to question so the long-nosed man just shrugged and nodded before turning away.

"I'll go see what's up with Sanji, maybe help him out in the kitchen." He offered back, and watched Luffy grin. Usopp went then, leaving Luffy to continue his staring contest with the base of the crow's nest.

The captain let his treasure fall back on his head with a noiseless plop. He wanted to see what was up with Zoro. His swordsman had been acting weird today. He didn't work-out with the sun when it rose, and he didn't snore when he took his nap before breakfast. And he didn't cut anything in half, even though Sanji had kicked a big hole in their mast. To put it simply, Zoro just wasn't acting like Zoro. And Luffy wanted to know the reason why.

With a determined glint in his eyes, he stretched his arm up to the fifth rung of the crows nest's ladder and let his gum-gum powers fling him upwards. Flying through the air like a flung rubber band would never get old, Luffy was sure. He shot up past the nest's large windows, corrected himself during landing, and used his feet to crash through the doorway that Franky had built as a side entrance for the balcony.

"Oi, Zoro!" Luffy burst into the crow's nest with a blinding grin. He hit the ground, slipped a few feet across the steel flooring and was stopped from ramming into the swordsman's weight bench by Zoro's boot. His eyes widened expectantly and he looked up to see the face of his first mate peering down at him. "Zoro missed lunch!"

Zoro set his weight down with a grunt, not really surprised by his Captain's random and rambunctious entrance. "I'm not really hungry right now, Luffy."

"That's good." His captain nodded, sitting up to pat invisible dust off his hat and vest. Zoro could only take that to mean that Luffy hadn't really left him any leftovers. "But it's gonna be dinner time soon, will you sneak me something early?" Luffy whispered excitedly.

Zoro blinked deadpan at the rubber boy. "I'm not going in there right now, Luffy." He picked up a smaller barbell off of the ground by his side, curling it towards his bicep.

"But I thought you were helping Sanji?"

Luffy's wide blinking eyes made Zoro cringe. "Trust me, Captain, we're helping each other by not being next to each other right now." Zoro lowered the weight to the ground again as Luffy sat across from him.

"Oh, right, that makes sense." Luffy grinned, although Zoro could sense the confusion rolling off him. The rubber boy crossed his legs, pressing his flip flops together at the soles. He angled his body a little so that he and Zoro were facing head on. "Usopp says you guys are fighting again."

Zoro snorted, knocking knees against his captain's, trying to ignore the feeling that Luffy was sitting too close inside his personal space. He didn't have the energy to press him away. "Usopp's not making up stories this time." Zoro said. He wanted to laugh, wanting his statement to sound airy and nonchalant, but his voice came out more serious than he intended. It didn't end up with him smirking, and it didn't leave Luffy smiling. Instead a slight frown was sitting on the young captain's face. It made Zoro's pulse flutter briefly. He breathed out a sigh, "I'm going to kill him, Luffy. I swear I will. If I see him now."

Zoro averted his gaze when Luffy breathed in a sharp breath.

"You can't kill your crewmate, Zoro!" Luffy pouted, "Besides, you can't kill my cook."

The swordsman was finally able to bring a smirk to his lips at Luffy's suddenly decisive tone, but it was short lived, and he felt another frown curl against them a moment later. "It's his own damn fault." He shifted his eyes across the floor, studying a red spot on the carpeting. He wondered if it was blood. It could have been wine. Maybe it was paint.

Zoro's voice sounded different to his captain, and Luffy stretched out a hand to touch the swordsman's arm before he could pick up another dumbbell. "Maybe you should take a break." Luffy could feel Zoro's breath panting heavily across his face even though their heads were about a foot away from each other. "Zoro, you okay?"

The swordsman shivered when the boy whined. He felt his muscles shudder under Luffy's hand and cursed himself in his head. Luffy didn't often ask personal questions like that outright. The two usually communicated in code. In guy talk. In a language that was all their own that no one else could understand. Unless Luffy was serious. And Luffy was hardly ever, if not never, serious. The swordsman ripped his gaze from the unidentified blotch on the rug and looked his captain in the eye, keeping his expression calm.

"I'm fine."

Then he suddenly felt Luffy's arms sliding, weaving, and stretching around his middle. Luffy had his swordsman pulled so close that Zoro could feel the other's lively heartbeat pounding against him through their thin clothes. Zoro didn't pull away, but he certainly didn't lean into his captain's touch, staying rigid and trying to keep a thin slice of distance between them. Because Zoro didn't want to feel weak. He didn't want to have to depend on Luffy to make _nothing_ go away. If he did lean, he feared he wouldn't be able to get back on his own two feet again, and that thought startled him more than the strong hands that he respected so much running across his back now.

"Zoro." Zoro felt his breath catch when Luffy hissed his name. "What is it? Who's hurting you? And don't say it's Sanji, cause it isn't. I know it isn't."

Zoro swallowed around a lump in his throat that had appeared in the last ten seconds without him knowing it. He felt himself slipping, and before he knew it his chin had come to a dead-weighted rest against Luffy's shoulder. "Luffy…I'm…"

"I'll kick their asses. Just let me know." Luffy's voice shook with the anger it always did when he was dead set on protecting something precious to him. Zoro always missed the aloofness that was his usual carefree captain whenever he became so serious, and it just made Zoro's heart ache even more knowing that _he_ was the reason for the weight on Luffy's shoulders now. In a literal sense too. Zoro grimaced, and yanked his chin back from where it was pressing against his captain.

This was his problem. His burden to bear. Not Luffy's. And he was going to get over it. Now. This stress was going to go away, and everything was going to go back to normal.

"I'm fine, Captain. Zoro repeated.

He felt Luffy's arms unwinding to release him.

Luffy pulled back, and Zoro felt the smaller man's wide stubborn eyes studying his face.

"You'll work it out, right?"

Zoro sighed, "Yeah." He thought aloud. "Yeah," he said, trying his darnedest to believe it. "It'll be okay."

Luffy's hand burned his skin where it touched him.

"Good!" Luffy grinned, and punched Zoro's bicep. "Now Zoro needs rest!" He laughed when the swordsman cringed. Zoro watched his captain bounce out of the room, using the actual ladder entrance this time. His rubber arm hung onto the floorboards during his descent. The fingers lingered a bit longer than they had to before sliding away completely. As if to say, _"I'm here."_

Zoro watched them go, a slight frown marring his face. _"I know."_ He thought back.

Luffy was worried about him. Damn it. Luffy shouldn't have to worry about him! Zoro was Luffy's right hand man. The one Luffy could count on. He was the one who promised the future pirate king that he would never lose.

Zoro lifted his hands and gripped the towel that was hanging around his neck. He shoved his face into it, fighting the urge to scream.

He breathed hard breaths, in and out, three times. Maybe Luffy was right. Maybe he just needed some rest.

Zoro wiped the layers of sweat from his forehead with his bandana and stumbled over to the window seat. He looked out the large glass windows that surrounded him, hanging over the ship's deck. The sky was painted in overcast eerie shades of purples, and the sea reflected back sunset colors. It gave Zoro a sense of peace and uneasiness at the same time. He lay down and his gaze drifted across the room towards the balcony door that Luffy had opened when he came in, but never shut. Zoro ignored it and focused on the fresh, cool breeze that blew in from it. He blinked and took in a deep breath. It had been a long day already. He let his body mold into the wooden bench as exhaustion overtook him, raised his eyes to the ceiling, stared at the high wooden roof, and before long fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mix with:

3 shots of Tequila

4 shots of strong Whiskey

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was a peace offering. Lime soda mixed with tequila and some of those little green olives that Zoro seemed to like so much. Sanji had even gone to the trouble of making two. Both complete with tiny umbrella decorations that he normally saved for the girl's special drinks.

It had started with a suggestion from Usopp, who came in the kitchen to simply pester the shit out of him.

Luffy had come next. The rubber man had thankfully interrupted Usopp's "lecture" just before Sanji was preparing himself to do the same thing, except in a much more violent way. Usopp was saved, but Luffy, damn him, had the gall to complain to Sanji that Zoro wasn't being any fun, just training in the crow's nest and refusing to play with him. Sanji wanted to yell at his Captain, and ask him why the hell the Moss-ball should be any of his concern. But the look Luffy had given him shut Sanji up pretty quickly. And Sanji, like a complete moron, told his captain that he'd deal with the Marimo-head.

Sanji knew the swordsman was probably hungry, and it was Zoro's own fault for skipping lunch. Although, it was probably Sanji's fault for causing the first mate's sour mood in the first place.

Well whatever was wrong with Zoro, booze would knock him out of the funk he was in. It always did. And Sanji was done hiding from Zoro. If the swordsman was going to kill him, Sanji decided he probably would have done so already.

Sanji believed in a thing called karma. It was almost like luck, but with Karma you had to give some to get some. It wasn't entirely unlike being a gentleman or a knight in shining armor. Every romantic fairy tale in existence used karma. The knight would slay the dragon and in return got to keep the beautiful princess. The prince would give up a little piece of himself, and was always rewarded in the end with a happily ever after.

Sanji was in no way, shape, or form looking to be Zoro's prince. But the guilt eating away at his gut was starting to get a little bothersome.

_"__The person who fell down the stairs was a friend of mine. And she did die. I carry her sword as a promise to win, so maybe someday she won't see me as weak."_

Zoro's words had been flitting back and forth through the cook's head all day. They wouldn't leave him alone.

But something about those words caught Sanji's fancy, although it probably shouldn't have. It shouldn't have made a difference with the gravity of the entire situation. But Sanji had caught it, and couldn't let it go. Zoro had said… _she_.

So, that must have meant that the swordsman knew a girl, and she died... how old was he then? Could the swordsman have been engaged? Married? In love? The cook didn't even see the possibility of the brute _being_ with a girl. Zoro never showed much interest in girls. Not like Sanji showed interest in them. But maybe that was because, because... _"she did die"_. Could the swordsman be victim to such a broken heart? Sanji was left curious. Zoro had dangled the meat that left the cook's mouth watering. Who was Zoro's mystery girl, and where did she get away with calling that Marimo bastard _weak_?

Sanji swallowed around the unfitting puzzle pieces. He wanted to know. Now if only he could make peace with a certain swordsman. And who knew, maybe Zoro had already forgotten about the whole thing.

Somehow the cook knew that probably wasn't the case. He knew that Zoro was perfectly capable of holding a grudge.

Sanji put the finishing touches on Zoro's beverages. He stared down at them sadly and confusedly for a moment, not understanding entirely why he was going through all the trouble for some sulking sword freak.

For the sake of karma, Sanji reminded himself. And maybe because he was still feeling guilty. He hoisted up the tray in his one free hand, moved his crutch with the other, and started for the ship's workout room/ lookout tower. When he got to his designated spot at the tower's base, he froze. Sanji's head tilted back and he counted the steps on the ladder it would take him to get to the top.

His mind quickly calculated how many accidents could actually happen to him while climbing up that thing. Those were some unpleasant thoughts. He'd made it this far so gracefully too. Well, as graceful as a guy accessorizing a crutch and drink tray could be anyway. Maybe he could just wait for Zoro to come down on his own. Sanji took a step back.

He was probably asleep up there, and not even thinking about their stupid fight anymore.

There was only one way to find out, Sanji supposed. He eyed the crow's nest again. Now if only there was an easy way up. Climbing up the ladder would be no picnic in his current situation. If he didn't need to climb somehow, that would be ideal. He could try jumping… maybe. No. Just no.

Sanji was just about to give up and surrender the entire ordeal when the figure of his captain caught his eye from across the deck. The rubber boy had his arms stretched around the figure head just lazing about and Sanji slowly began to formulate a plan. He decided that with his current luck Luffy's gum-gum catapult might be the best and hopefully more painless solution to his predicament.

Seemed like he had no other choice. "Yo! Shitty rubber!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 strawberry

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It turned out that pain was inevitable either way. Sanji sat on top of the crow's nest now, but not before a pretty painful crash landing. He was just glad he'd asked his captain to be _gentle _before the rubber man threw him up here. Sanji could still hear Luffy's boisterous laughter back down on deck. The humored and traitorous sound snaked its way up the crow's nest ladder and guffawed right in Sanji's face.

The cook sighed, picked up the thankfully un-spilled drinks and slipped down the roof towards the rounded balcony and quickly opened and shut the door behind him with his crutch-bearing hand. Luffy's entertained laughter was cut off abruptly, and his ears were graced with silence.

And then he saw him. Zoro was on the opposite side of the room curled against the window bench, napping. Sanji felt his insides freeze up, clenching into a hardened ball and sinking into the pit of his stomach.

He breathed out. He felt like a knight alright. Sneaking into the dragon's lair. Only he wasn't protecting a princess, and he just hoped that Zoro couldn't breathe fire.

For a moment, he contemplated just leaving the drinks and making a run for it. But the stubborn side of him told him to face it like a man. Sanji took a breath, balanced the drink tray, and crutched forward. His brow furrowed as he got closer to his crew mate. Zoro was sleeping so quietly, unlike his restless sleep last night. The cook set the tray down on the weight bench that was sitting in the middle of the floor and continued towards the sleeping dragon. He watched the short rise and fall of the swordsman's chest.

Stupid swordsman.

Sanji remembered last night, when he'd heard the swordsman dreaming. It didn't sound peaceful, by any means. Sanji wondered if Zoro had dreamed about the dead friend that he'd mentioned earlier. The one that Sanji didn't know even existed in the first place. Maybe if the swordsman would _tell _the cook these things, he'd have known to keep his mouth shut.

Sanji blamed the swordsman.

"_Stop, those stairs. Don't go. They'll get you." _

"_No."_

"_Not… weak…"_

Stupid, stupid, swordsman…

Sanji looked at the "demon" pirate's sleeping face. Saw his eye lids shudder in his sleep. He wondered if the Marimo was dreaming now. The cook huffed. He wished Zoro would just wake up already and take his damn drink and stop being mad at him. There was a soft murmur that passed between Zoro's thin lips and Sanji's attention flickered back to the swordsman.

He swallowed, backing up a short step, wondering if Zoro-dragon was going to wake. But Zoro didn't make another sound.

The cook lifted a hand, readying himself to shake the swordsman awake when he noticed something particularly odd. Again, a soft murmur passed through Zoro's parted lips, almost like a mutter, and it was at that moment that Zoro's breathing had suddenly changed. Sanji didn't even know how he noticed it in the first place. The cook's eyes widened on their own. Another soft whine, and then Zoro's breaths went from short to shallow.

And for a single hair-fracture of a moment, Sanji swore, had suddenly stopped.

The cook held his own breath, "What the—" Sanji shook his head.

Zoro wasn't breathing.

One second. Two seconds. Zoro wasn't freaking _breathing_! Sanji felt his heart speed up. Going into over drive.

Zoro wasn't…

There was a simple snort from the green-haired man and the rise and fall returned to normal.

Sanji tilted back on his heel, relieved. What the hell just happened? He was sure that Zoro had just quit breathing. It was only for a moment, but…

_Ah, hell, maybe I'm just hallucinating_. Sanji thought. _Maybe I'm imagining things. _Sanji peered hard at the man's chest, confirming with himself that the snug white shirt was keeping an up and down rhythm. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, Sanji smirked. Then he shook his head again, not really amused by his own joke. Maybe on any other day of the week, it would've been a good insult, could've brought on a laugh, but not today. He watched the swordsman's breathing for another few seconds before looking back at the drinks he'd brought his crew mate. The ice was probably going to melt soon, and Sanji didn't want to prolong this discussion any longer anyways. He hesitated sharply before reaching out and touching Zoro's sweaty shirt.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

½ mashed kiwi fruit

37 thousand oz. Glass Shards

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Zoro startled awake when someone shook his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, something he didn't want to be there was in his line of vision.

Sanji.

He swallowed dryly, "the hell are you doing here?" Zoro basically croaked. His throat felt oddly parched and tender, but he made no motion to clear it. He eyed the bastard cook in front of him instead, still feeling tired and disoriented.

Sanji gave him a strange look for a moment, but held a hand in front of his chest and waved it dismissively. "I come in peace." He took a step back, fixed Zoro with a stare, and hobbled towards the center of the room. He made himself comfortable on the bench where some of the heavier weights slept.

Zoro watched passively as Sanji gestured to the drinks resting by his side, his mind still hazy from his short rest. The sight of the alcohol caused Zoro to sit up quickly though, a little more interested in the sudden conversation.

"Here, I got you a drink. It's pretty toxic going down, so drink with care." Sanji murmured. The swordsman looked dazed with sleep. He wasn't sure why, but Sanji almost regretted waking him up. Maybe it was too soon to try and rekindle their acquaintanceship with each other.

Zoro blinked, looking at the fancy glasses full of mouthwatering bluish tinted liquid. Sanji made him a drink? Now he was sure that Sanji was trying—really trying—to get back on Zoro's good side. The swordsman was sure that alcohol was exactly what the doctor ordered but would never recommend. The look he gave the cook softened. Zoro didn't know what to say. Words escaped him. He swiped a thumb across the corners of his eyes, rubbing away slumber, and opened his mouth in a mute appreciation.

"Can we just forget about what happened?" Sanji asked first, studying Zoro closely. The swordsman was slightly impressed by Sanji's attempts, that much was certain. "Let bygones be bygones?"

The way Sanji was looking at him made Zoro's skin crawl so he blinked and put on a contemplative frown. "So, you admit you were an asshole?" He croaked. His voice was still hoarse and he craved the drink that was resting beside the cook's lap. Anything to wet his throat. He just hoped the cook had only spiked it, and not poisoned it.

"Not one of my better moments." Sanji finally whispered. The swordsman nodded, Sanji watched his green hair sway with the action, like tiny blades of mowed grass being kissed on by the wind.

"What you said, it was messed up." Zoro breathed. He leaned forward and took the small weights off the ground and gripped them in his hands, needing something to hold on to. The cook being near him and acting civilized felt weird, especially after their battle earlier. Heavy words had been exchanged.

"I didn't know."

Sanji's eyes were downcast. Zoro breathed out, shifted both weights to one fist and lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. He ran his fingers over the stubble of hair there. No, Sanji didn't know. That was true.

"I know." Zoro said. He blinked hard, wondering vaguely about the foreign fuzzy feeling in his head, and trying to listen to the cook at the same time. "Hey, when I shoved you before… didn't mean to uh, hit your foot or anything. Just wanted to scare the shit out of ya, is'll." Zoro slurred. He yawned loudly.

"Nice try." Sanji murmured. He wasn't going to admit to Zoro that he'd almost pissed his pants back there. Sanji glanced down at the drinks and pinched one of the straws lightly at the part where the crinkles bent at the top. "So, uh, who was the girl?"

Zoro stared at him blankly. "What girl?"

"You know… your dream girl?" Sanji confirmed. His eyes rose slightly to peek up at Zoro from beneath a fringe of blonde bangs. "Was she a babe?"

Zoro saw a hint of light pink dusting across the blonde's fair skin. He couldn't mean… "What are you…talking about?" He asked, skeptical.

Sanji practically had hearts in his eyes at just the thought of such a precious woman. "I bet she must've been something. I mean if she got away with calling you weak and shit." Sanji chuckled. His cheeks took on an even more embarrassed flush when he saw Zoro's eyes bug.

Oh no. No he didn't. Zoro's stomach turned. "What the hell are you talking about, Cook? Kuina? She was my rival, or friend, whatever."

"Kuina, huh? What a gorgeous name." Sanji babbled.

Zoro shut his eyes, his anger flaring again. "Stop your daydreaming! Dammit, don't you think about her like that."

"Huh? Ohh, so she was something special to you, huh?" Sanji snapped to attention at the exasperation that laced the other's voice.

"You know what? Fuck you. I don't want to talk about this with you." Zoro shook. He felt weird. Nervous, or angry, or sick, he couldn't decide. What was Sanji trying to pull this time? "I don't want to talk about this, period."

Sanji raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, sheesh, calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Zoro snapped, his tone resembling a likeness to a butcher's blade.

"Okay, okay, forget it. I didn't come up here to start another fight." Sanji hastily decided. He didn't want to fight anymore. He was tired, and fighting to get rid of his frustration didn't work too well before.

"This is why you and I don't have conversations." Zoro spat. He glared.

"Do you actually have 'conversations' with anyone?" Sanji sneered. He jeered.

There was a silence that folded over them like a blanket of snow. Sanji swore he could even feel the temperature drop a few degrees. This whole thing was more effort than it should've been. He still had dinner to prepare for.

The look he was giving Zoro softened. The swordsman's walls were up sky-high today.

The sooner he said sorry to Zoro and left, the better. "Before, what I said in the kitchen, I'm sorry." Zoro's glare stepped down a notch. Sanji watched Zoro's boot sliding back and forth against an exercise mat, scuffing it slightly. "I didn't know anything serious happened, so I'm sorry. They were just words."

Zoro cocked an eyebrow as the dismissal rolled off the blonde's tongue, sounding oddly casual, as if the words he was sorry for were never traitorous to begin with. "Is that what you think? They were just words?" His foot stilled and he watched Sanji's eyes raise. Zoro caught the cook's gaze.

Sanji nodded, confused by Zoro's repeated statement. "That's right. Shit words. They don't really matter."

"Real respectful." Sarcastic, Zoro looked away from the cook then, and Sanji felt the air in the room growing stale. The cook blinked, not sure he liked the swordsman's tone. Since when did Zoro become so sensitive?

Keeping his voice soft, Sanji pressed on, "Marimo, you should have told me about what happened."

"And you should just have the guts to admit you were wrong. Saying that shit doesn't matter isn't an apology." Zoro bit out angrily.

"I never said th-"

"You just did!"

"I didn't mean it that way! I didn't mean it didn't matter. I'm saying sorry. I'm saying you should have told me so it wouldn't have happened!"

"Shut _up, _Sanji! God you're retarded." Zoro spat, then lifted a hand to his chin. He bit down on the side of his index finger just below the knuckle in an aggravated grimace, suppressing the urge to scream.

He ignored the look of surprise that appeared on the cook's face and squeezed the thin iron handles of the dumbbell's in his fist, narrowing his gaze on his knee caps instead. He let the air settle a bit before speaking again, "Maybe I didn't _want _to tell anyone. Why would I tell _you _anyway, cook?"

Sanji's breath faltered at Zoro's untrusting tone. His eyebrow furrowed. What a stupid question. "Well, because we're like family. We trust each other." He said dumbly. Automatically.

Zoro's snort at Sanji's comment caught him off guard.

"What's funny, Sword Boy?"

Zoro leaned forward, fixing his eyes on the cook's busted foot. "Me trusting you."

Sanji looked absolutely appalled. "You don't trust me?"

Zoro didn't say anything. A static hung in the air around them, thick, as if there was suddenly a lost connection. Sanji's heart constricted a little in his chest. He told himself he was being stupid. But _what? _Why didn't Zoro _trust _him? They were crew mates. They were Nakama. Family. Brothers. The whole shebang. Sanji thought Zoro was just joking, but when he looked back at the Marimo his mouth was drawn into a serious line. His face was stoic. Those steely eyes were looking at Sanji's busted foot, or Sanji's shirt, or Sanji's hands, but not in his eyes.

"It doesn't really matter." Zoro muttered.

Sanji swallowed. "Oh, okay…" He drawled the sentence, at a loss of what to say.

Zoro shrugged but stayed silent.

Sanji's hurt turned into a simmering anger. Zoro didn't fucking _trust _him. Since fucking _when_? After all they'd been through together on this psychotic floating bathtub. Sanji clenched his hands into fists, not wanting to lose his cool. Zoro was probably just messing with him. Probably just still mad about before. Sure they were rotten to each other, fought all the damn time, but that shitty asshole depended on Sanji, just like Sanji depended on Zoro.

Zoro interrupted Sanji's inner turmoil by clearing his throat. He pointed a finger towards the drinks at the cook's side.

Sanji shifted a little and picked up the tray, "Yeah, yeah, drink 'em while they're cold." He said, trying to remain calm. He didn't want Zoro to see that what he'd said had affected him so badly. They were just words. Just _words. _Sticks and stones. Sanji grimaced at himself. Did Zoro say that just to prove a point or something?

Something clicked inside the blonde's head and a low rumble chuckled through his chest. "Oh, I get it. I get it. You're just telling me that words do matter. Shit, I didn't _mean_ it like that, Moss-head. You're just bullshitting me, right…?"

Zoro's expression didn't change. His shoulders shrugged again.

Sanji was about to demand an answer, but Zoro had moved to take the tray from the cook, and that's when something unexpected happened. When the swordsman stood, his legs seemed to buckle a little, and the weights that Zoro had been lifting slipped from his hands. Zoro's eyes widened as the 50 pound hunk of iron made an angled beeline as it fell to the ground that was completely unreal. And with a thick crunch, landed right on Sanji's bandaged foot.

The cook saw stars.

Sanji's first instinct was to cry. "Shit!" The bench beneath him shook when he twisted.

His nerves went haywire. Sanji's leg shot out on reflex, and the serving dish flew from his hands, drinks going with it.

The sweet and spicy beverages soared across the small space between the cook and swordsman. Untoasted drinks splashed across Zoro's lap and face and the fancy martini glasses fell in a shattered heap at the swordsman's feet. Glass and tequila littered the carpet, soda and ice messed up the floor.

"Dammit!" Zoro cursed, he mourned the drinks that were spilled across his lap and the floor, all over his training equipment. He pulled at his soaked shirt, releasing freezing ice cubes that had managed to find their way down it.

"You did that on purpose!" The shout was simultaneous. Ripping from both of their tight throats at roughly the same time. It was even followed by the cliché, "I did not!"

In all actuality, Sanji should have seen this coming. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did the next best thing, picked up his crutch and used it to crack Zoro in the gut before storming/limping across the crow's nest. Zoro was doubled over when Sanji glared back at him. The cook's eyes were cornered with pained and angry tears. "_That _one was on purpose, shithead." Sanji barked, then in a very low tone warned the swordsman, "Oh, and dinner's in three hours. Don't skip it," and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving a wheezing Zoro in his wake.

So much for good karma. Fuck fairy tales. Forget fate. Screw happy endings. Someone's karma just ran over Sanji's dogma.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 Precious Straw Hat

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

They refused to talk to each other. Bad things happened when they spoke to each other. The silence that reigned between the cook and swordsman was tense, awkward, and put a regaling sense of fear into two of their younger crew mates. Chopper and Usopp were peeking hesitantly up from their food, eyes shifting continuously and hesitantly between their sparring friends.

Dinner was particularly late. Stars were brightly shining overhead as the crew stumbled into the galley for their late meal. Sanji sat at the table, tea cup perched in one hand, while the other passed the bread bowl over to his captain without another word. He stayed within his dazed thoughts. He should never have gone up to the crow's nest this afternoon.

The alcohol did not repair anything.

Sanji's foot had finally quit throbbing with the help of some very strong pain killers.

Too bad the pain killers couldn't numb his thoughts too. What Zoro had said about not trusting him had Sanji's mind spinning, and he wondered if the swordsman was pretty much in the same boat about what Sanji had said to him earlier. Everything was so maddening. Sanji snapped a crab leg in half between his fingers.

Ya know; he never did get that smoke.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Zoro wasn't in much better shape. There was a large bruise forming on his stomach from where the cook had shoved his crutch, and he felt dead tired. An earth shattering migraine was pounding across his right temple, and he could no longer see straight.

Zoro did not want to be here. He knew Sanji did not want him to be here. But they were literally forced to the dinner table by their very persuasive captain.

He poked a crab leg with his chop stick and stared into his beer. It wasn't nearly strong enough. He was suddenly mourning the loss of those tequilas earlier.

"Robin, pinch me. I think I've died and gone to heaven." Nami smirked from her seat at the table. Her eyes kept twitching between her two male crew members, who by now would normally be tearing each other apart with curses and insults. But as it was, no kicks had been thrown and no blades had been drawn. Silence was eating away at opposite ends of the table.

Robin smiled sweetly at the navigator sitting across from her. "You're very much alive, Miss Navigator. And these two are mysteriously quiet."

"Robin's right. What's wrong with you two?"

Sanji took a sip of wine and Zoro his beer at approximately the same time, which made it a convenient excuse not to answer.

"Sanji, how's your leg feeling?" Chopper asked nervously, breaking the small bubble of silence that had formed.

Sanji let a small growl slip, figuring he better answer his doctor. "It's fine." He bit out, taking another forkful of food. _No thanks to the Marimo. _He growled to himself.

The little reindeer nodded softly, eyes turning to Zoro. "He's been keeping weight off it, right Zoro?"

Zoro had trouble swallowing the mouthful of liquor he'd just sloshed back. He choked as beer slipped down his throat the wrong way. Sanji almost laughed outright at the irony of that absurd statement.

The swordsman stared into his drink, swallowing coughs, when he felt the imploring eyes on him. Chopper's, then Usopp's, Robin's, Franky's, and unfortunately Sanji's. "How the hell should I know? Ask him." He ground out, watching the liquid swirl around in the cup.

"Aren't you helpin' Cook-bro out, Sword-bro?" Franky let out a hearty sigh, the thought of such brotherly caring spurring on emotions from deep within his steel gut.

Sanji tore his eyes away from the swordsman. He heard his crew pressing Zoro for answers loud and clear, and normally Sanji would have been partial to the swordsman being hounded. Except, some kind of weird wormy feeling was squiggling around inside of him that Sanji couldn't hook a name tag to. For some reason he couldn't find the enjoyment of seeing Zoro squirm.

"The Cook can help himself, he's a big boy."

"Are you guys seriously fighting still, come on, you're both pathetic." Nami scoffed. "Acting like children. Zoro, you're supposed to be helping Sanji out until his foot heals."

"If it's so important to you then why don't you help him out yourself, Woman?"

Sanji bristled at the way Zoro had addressed Nami.

"I shouldn't have to. It was your fault he fell in the first place, right?"

Zoro went quiet. _It was _his _fault the cook fell? It was a damn accident. If that was the case, then it must've been _his_ fault Kuina fell. And it'd be his fault if anyone on this crew "fell". _The swordsman shook his head, trying to clear that trail of thinking. It was a dangerous road, and he knew it. He tried to change the direction that his thoughts were headed by staring down at his mostly full plate. He didn't have the appetite to eat, knowing it was Sanji that made it. He got a feeling that he was acting like a child, like Nami pointed out, but it's not like he cared what she thought anyway. Damn Sea Witch should learn to mind her own business, maybe she and Sanji could learn to mind their own business together. Zoro created a fist and lashed out with an insult of his own. "Yeah, I stood there and shoved the ladder over, Witch. Pity, I didn't see you there to catch him on his way down."

"Oh that's real mature, Zoro!"

"Accusing me of damaging the Cook's baggage is real mature too."

"Hey, you can't talk to a lady that way, shithead!" Sanji hadn't meant to snap, but the way Zoro was raising his voice at his precious Nami-swan was unforgivable.

"I'll talk to her however I damn well please, Shit-cook!" Zoro was standing now, looming over the table and glaring heatedly at the cook's retarded looking eyebrow. He grit his teeth and hissed, "You seem to talk to _who_ever you want, _how_ever you want!"

Sanji didn't want to believe it. But the more he started to piece together what was going on, the more it disgusted him. Zoro was sulking. And he was the cause of it. Any other time he would have gave himself a tally mark and claimed a win for himself in the rivalry between themselves, but this time he didn't think the word victory was quite worthy of describing the situation. Sanji was _sorry_. He thought that Zoro should just _forgive _him already.

Zoro's past issues shouldn't give him an excuse to talk to a lady like that though. Sanji swallowed the mass of nervous spit that had been gathering in his mouth, found himself standing up in a hurry to meet the swordsman's height. It was a move he instantly regretted.

"Dammit!"

"Sanji!" Chopper shrieked, when the cook leaned heavily against the table, cursing his aching foot and own stupidity. "Sit down this instant, you've got to be more careful!"

"Green-headed idiot!" Sanji roared, sinking down in his seat again. Chopper was by his side.

Zoro silently watched the cook cringe. That was the idiot's own damn fault, getting so worked up over nothing, getting so _angry _over something so stupid! This was pissing him off! Zoro's chair scraped against the ground as he pushed it away with the back of his knees. "Whatever, I'm outta here."

"Zoro, you wait just a minute!" Nami scolded, sick of the swordsman's attitude.

"Don't tell me what to do, Nami."

"Zoro!"

_Dammit!... Luffy… _Zoro stopped in his tracks, hands clenching themselves into fists. He hadn't noticed before, but his captain had seemed quiet during dinner too, and now, after what he'd said… Damn. "What is it, Luffy?" He prayed to whatever he didn't believe in that Luffy wouldn't say anything out loud in front of everybody else about ass kicking or problems or invading personal space.

There was silence engulfing the room. And slowly, Luffy uttered out a sentence that was bold and serious, and made everyone falter. "Are you gonna finish that?"

Zoro let out the breath he'd been holding, relieved. He cast a glance over his shoulder to where his captain was pointing down at his plate of unfinished dinner. He could see the mouths of the rest of his crew mates dropping at the absurdity of the question. Of course that would be Luffy's first concern. Zoro wanted to laugh, but didn't really find it funny for some reason. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted to go lie down. "I'm not that hungry." He replied easily and before he finished blinking the plate was cleaned off.

"Luffy! You're gonna choke if you eat like that!" Usopp slapped the rubber boy upside the head.

Sanji watched the swordsman's food disappear into his captain's bottomless stomach in less than two seconds, and Zoro, the ungrateful moss-head hardly even _touched _it. Sanji was just a little irked. The pain in his foot twisted his anger meter a little further, and before he knew it, his rage was bubbling higher. "What the hell, my food not good enough for you now?"

Ugh! If Sanji would just shut the hell up for one second!

"That can't be it, Sanji. It was really really _really_ good!" Luffy patted his satisfied belly, and grinned. "Zoro just probably felt like sharing!"

"Wasting food is intolerable." Sanji snapped.

"Well, lucky you, it wasn't wasted." Zoro seethed, "Now, if you'll excuse me," He kept walking towards the door, stopping to pick up his swords and haramaki along the way from where they rested against the wall.

But Sanji just had to keep at it.

"Why didn't you _eat _it?"

"Maybe I wasn't _hungry_, genius."

"Your sulking is ridiculous!"

"I'm not sulking, I'm just fucking _tired_!"

"Bull shit!"

"_Eat shit_!"

Zoro slipped on his haramaki and pinned his swords to his side. He gripped the door handle.

"Hold on a minute, Sea-weed head. You've got dish duty."

"Usopp wants it."

The sharpshooter's eyes widened, but he wisely didn't protest.

"_Usopp _has _watch._"

"Then I'll take Usopp's watch."

"Fucking coward."

Zoro slammed the door he had just opened shut again in front of him, trapping him inside the room again. "You want your dishes done, asshole? I'll finish them. You'll have twice as many when I'm done too."

Sanji slammed his fist against the table, making the plates and silverware shiver as if they were afraid of the threat Zoro had just posed.

"I- I really will wash the dishes, Sanji." Usopp spoke up meekly from beside the chef.

"The Shit Swordsman can do them himself!"

Zoro clenched his teeth. Why wouldn't he just drop it already? Couldn't the cook see that Zoro really wanted to be far away from his flowery presence? He always knew the cook was a ridiculous excuse for a human being. He should have paid more attention the first time he saw that sorry excuse for a man ironing his _tie_! In his heart, Zoro knew that he couldn't stay mad at the cook for too long. It wasn't entirely the cook's fault that he thought more with his balls rather than his brain. He must've been born tactless.

Sanji had always been hot tempered. Zoro had known that from the very first day they had met back at that floating restaurant on the sea. And up until now, Zoro hadn't really had a problem with the blonde's attitude.

But now… Sanji wasn't really being himself. He was angry. But so was Zoro. And it was all Sanji's fault.

The glare he sent the cook's way made Sanji shiver. He could see the cook shake visibly before shrinking back in his seat. Zoro kept his face impassive, his eyes focused disgustedly on the blonde. At least Sanji had the guts to keep eye contact. Even though Zoro wished, deep in his gut, that the idiot would just look away. "You haven't done enough, have you Cook?"

Sanji's gaze faltered. He looked at Zoro's tense form, back stiff and rigid, arms folded tightly against his chest. Sanji's gaze folded completely, like a useless hand of cards. He looked away, eyeing Luffy, seeing his beautiful ladies, all sitting stationary at the table. No one was looking back at him. All eyes, except Sanji's, were trained on Zoro.

"What's wrong with you two?" Nami finally asked. The volume in her voice was meeker than it normally would have been.

Sanji watched her eyes slowly travel towards him, leaving Zoro to be under everybody else's watchful gaze. Sanji couldn't stand those big, beautiful, brown eyes boring into him for much longer. He was going to crack. He inhaled deeply, felt his knees wobble under Nami's scrutinizing. "It was something I…"

"It's nothing." Zoro cut him off suddenly. He dropped his arms from where they were guarding his chest. This was nobody else's business. This was between the Love Cook and himself, and Zoro wasn't going to let Sanji hide behind anymore excuses or people or anything. This was the cook's fault. So Sanji was going to take responsibility. No one else had to know. No one else needed to know. Zoro didn't want anyone to know in the first place.

Sanji's eyes darted towards him, confused. "It's nothing." Zoro repeated, "We just had a stupid fight. Just like always. This is between him and me, and it'll blow over."

Nami rose from her chair, becoming the voice of reason for the rest of the crew. "This doesn't seem like a normal fight. You two seriously need to apologize to each other and quit being such dorks."

Sanji bowed his head. His throat felt tight. "Marimo…"

"Save it." Zoro cut him off again, "It'll blow over. Just," Zoro paused, eyeing Sanji's bowed head and broken foot, "Just don't talk to me right now. Looks like you got out of dish duty Usopp, go ahead and do watch."

"Y-yeah, sure, no problem." Usopp stood from the table, grateful to take his exit while Zoro gave him the opportunity. Sanji and Zoro were complete loons. He glanced at Chopper. "Hey, you comin' Chopper? I've still got some more Bomb Stars to paint."

The little reindeer looked up at Usopp in awe, "Sure!" He squealed, hopping from his seat and trotting alongside his savior.

"Let me join you boys." Robin was the next to stand, following the other two towards the exit.

Franky was suddenly muttering something about Cola, and following closely behind Robin.

Luffy and Nami were the last to remain.

The navigator stood swiftly and let out a harsh breath. These men were the most stubborn people she'd ever met. Nami pointed an accusing finger between them, fed up. "Just make up already!" She scolded before heading out the door herself, looking mentally exhausted.

That just left Luffy. The captain sat casually at the dinner table, cleaning his teeth with a fork and patting his satisfied belly.

"Delicious dinner, Sanji." He complemented. "I think I need a long nap!"

Luffy grinned as he stood up. He locked eyes with Sanji and then Zoro respectively. The rubber boy passed Sanji his crutch silently, and the cook took it gratefully. He quietly started piling dirty dishes into a stack. Luffy watched him for a moment longer, and then looked back at his first mate. The rubber captain's grin widened before wordlessly taking his hat and dropping it onto Zoro's head.

Zoro's body stiffened. The swordsman's eyes went mysteriously glossy. Sanji froze, and busied himself with organizing the dirty silverware, trying to give his crew mates impossible privacy as they stood right next to him at the end of the dinner table.

"Wash my hat for me?" Luffy asked innocently. He gave Zoro's head a final tap, and the swordsman nodded back mutely. "Great! Night guys!" Luffy left the kitchen grinning, and then the room fell silent, the slapping of flip flops fading away. Zoro adjusted the straw hat atop his head and picked up the dirty dishes that Sanji had stacked before heading towards the sink without so much as even glancing in the cook's direction.

Sanji watched him heading towards the sink, feeling _something _strange as he saw their captain's prized hat on top of the swordsman's head. That hat was used as a symbol to pass on their captain's strength. Sanji didn't know what message he was supposed to get out of that, but maybe Zoro understood. Not that Zoro would tell him. The swordsman didn't _trust _him after all. Sanji made a face, crinkling his nose. He was tired of balancing on one leg, and lowered himself gingerly back down towards the dinner table. From there he got a clear picture of the swordsman standing at the sink through the dining room door.

Zoro looked more tired than usual. He was doing dishes and completely ignoring Sanji. The cook watched as Zoro dipped his wrists into the soapy water almost shyly. Something was off. The swordsman's normally steady grip seemed shaky as he handled the plates. Silence reined for a while longer, until the moss head finished off the cups without incident and started washing the bowls.

"Hey sword freak…" Sanji spoke softly, slicing the tension in the air like butter.

The dish Zoro was holding fell into the sudsy water with a low splash. A sigh escaped the swordsman's lips. He moved a hand, aiming to run it over his green hair as a calming gesture, but was blocked by the hat. He smoothed over it instead, distractedly, getting it wet in the process. "What now cook, just talk."

Zoro _sounded _more tired than usual. Sanji's curly brow furrowed above his right eyelid. "You know earlier, what you said about trust?"

"What about it?" Zoro snapped. He was sick of hearing Sanji's voice. He was tired and frustrated and he just wanted the peaceful sleep that he knew he wouldn't get tonight.

Sanji touched his tongue to his cheek. His mouth felt dry and cottony and he didn't know if he could get the words out. "Did you really…" Sanji trailed. What the hell was he thinking? Zoro shoved a plate in the sink to be rinsed off, almost shattering it in the process. The action steered Sanji's thoughts in a different direction. "Hey, be careful with the dishes asshole, you're going to break them."

"Yeah." Zoro agreed, causing Sanji to tilt his head in confusion. "I'm good at breaking stuff."

"What's with your pitiful attitude?" Another irritated growl ripped through Sanji's throat, he leaned against the table for support. "What do you want from me, Moss-head. Do you want me to say I'm sorry again?"

Zoro shifted his weight from foot to foot. Sanji could see it in his stance. "I just want you to leave me be, Sanji." Zoro breathed. "Please."

The use of his name, followed by that simple begging plea almost made Sanji freak. The cook stood hastily, almost uncomfortably, and without another word headed for the door.

It was clear to Sanji what was happening. For some reason, Zoro wasn't fighting back. He wasn't going to fight back. Zoro was surrendering. It scared Sanji. It irked him. It was mind-numbing. Zoro didn't just give up. None of Sanji's Nakama ever gave up.

"'Night." Zoro muttered at last, and Sanji found himself stumbling blindly out the door. He had to get out of the stifling kitchen. The wood hissed shut behind him and he found himself staring out into the blackness of the deck. The cool night air stung his cheeks. Sanji decided that panic wasn't very classy and instead reached inside his jacket pocket, producing a long white nicotine stick. He placed the cigarette between his lips and lit up. His breath painted the air in front of him, creating clouds of designs that made his imagination run wild.

He stood on one leg, staring over the railing, and smoked three more cigarettes.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Serve everything over ice.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Zoro stared into the sink and flushed the dish water down the drain. He was trying with all his might to focus on something far away that his mind couldn't really see. He wanted to relax his breathing. Clear away all distraction. What he'd said to the cook earlier about not trusting him was a test, Sanji had been right. And not trusting the cook should have been a lie, but right now he wasn't really sure. He'd only said that to prove a point, but now that he thought about it, some truth was biting into it.

He knew he was acting defeated around Sanji, but sometimes… it was necessary to lose a battle. Sometimes losing helped you become stronger in the long run. Zoro wet his lips with his tongue and felt the frown on them. His sensei told him that back at the dojo when he was still a little kid. Zoro didn't really understand it back then, and he _still _wasn't sure if he believed it either. Losing didn't make you stronger. Losing never made Zoro any stronger. It might have made him more determined in the end, but not stronger. Maybe the stuff he did to _fix _himself after a loss made him stronger, but the actual losing part didn't.

Losing just proved how weak he really was.

Zoro closed his eyes. His head hurt. The headache that hadn't stopped pulsing was making him feel sick to his stomach along with his mental and physical exhaustion.

He reached up and fingered the brim of Luffy's hat with his fingertips. The familiar sharp and smooth straw sticks licked his fingers and Zoro pulled it gently off his head. Luffy left it with him for more than washing. It was as a symbol of hope towards his swordsman, that was meant to tell Zoro that Luffy had the faith in him that he would be able to fix everything.

Luffy was counting on Zoro to do the right thing.

"_What is it? Who's hurting you? And don't say it's Sanji, cause it isn't. I know it isn't."_

And Luffy was right. It wasn't Sanji. The cook was just an excuse to get mad at… the real problem was…

Zoro focused on the hat again. Luffy was there if Zoro needed him. All he had to do was say the word.

But the real problem was… himself.

Zoro had to beat these nightmares first. And it sucked, because it was so much easier to just blame something else. Like the cook. Sanji was part of why Zoro was so angry, but only because… only because he was being stupid and disrespectful and Zoro had actually told Sanji something.

And it was hard to believe that Zoro had actually let his guard down that much in front of an asshole like Sanji.

He grit his teeth.

Sometimes Zoro thought Luffy might have a little too much faith in him. He traced the signature red band with the back of his knuckles and set the hat on the marble counter top next to sink. This thing going on with Sanji was just another fight.

It was. It would end. He and the cook would go back to normal, less vicious sparring, and everything would be how it used to be. Today was just a bad day.

Zoro yawned, glanced around the kitchen once more and decided to head to bed. He held Luffy's hat tightly in one hand, and hoped a good night's sleep would take this day far far away.

* * *

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Add in tiny umbrellas for decoration.

Refrigerate any leftovers.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sanji was dead tired. His foot ached, the meds that Chopper gave him made him feel sluggish and drowsy. Still, here he was, lying in the dark and unable to doze off. He figured it was the perfect finale to end his no-good, very-bad, rotten, awful, horrible day. He could hear the soft snores around him. Could differentiate the inhales and exhales of each crewmate. Luffy's softly growling belly. Franky's chainsaw snoring. Chopper's gentle murmurs. And an unsettling silence from the couch where Zoro was curled up.

Sanji was used to peaceful, restful snoring from the swordsman.

Not the quiet, uneasy slumber that the swordsman was in now. And not the mumbles. Not the whimpers and groans and screams. Not the hitching of breath.

He was used to the deep comforting grumbles that Zoro normally presented in his sleep. The kind of sleeping that made a person feel safe and at ease just knowing the swordsman was there. It was odd really, but when the swordsman slept, Sanji felt comforted. He felt safe. He felt home. And he knew everything was right with the world.

But that wasn't the case tonight. It was the same as the night before, and today when he'd seen Zoro asleep in the crow's nest. The swordsman was eerily silent before he would start stirring and shouting as dreams plagued him. Or worse. Before he stopped freaking _breathing_.

Sanji wondered how much longer this new and unusual routine would continue.

A slight rustle made Sanji freeze, He could hear Zoro moving around on the couch across the room, whispering and growling. It was the sudden scream that finally made him realize that the swordsman was having a nightmare, and Sanji watched as Zoro sat up in the darkness, arms curling around himself to block out some haunting force. A flash of moonlight pouring in from the porthole caught the swordsman's eyes moving around the quiet bunk room and left the cook confused. Sanji watched his crewmate in silence.

Suddenly Zoro's darting eyes found the cook's in the darkness. Sanji blinked, but couldn't look away. There was a look there, nestled in the swordsman's wide gaze, that Sanji could only pair with fear. It wasn't a look that he could pair to Zoro. Finally the swordsman's gaze left him, and Sanji was left staring at his blackened silhouette.

"Go back to sleep, Cook." Zoro's deep, gentle voice ordered. Sanji felt powerless to disobey him. He closed his eyes then, his thoughts twisting wildly in his head. What was going on with the swordsman? He vaguely heard the quiet creaks of the floorboards under moving feet, Sanji tried to pry his eyes open again, but they wouldn't budge. Against his will, he drifted off just as the hatch to the upper deck clicked shut.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Chop:

1 leafy stalk of bruised celery

2 raw chunks of guilt

Grate:

1 nasty urge to vomit

6 Aspirin

Peel:

1 empty chair

Mix with:

3 shots of Tequila

4 shots of strong Whiskey

1 strawberry

½ mashed kiwi fruit

37 thousand oz. Glass Shards

1 Precious Straw Hat

Serve everything over ice.

Add in tiny umbrellas for decoration.

Refrigerate any leftovers.

This is Blackleg Sanji's recipe for Apology.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: Nope this is before they met Brooke! That it is. And Sanji and Zoro's relationship status in this fic is still to be announced. I just can't decide. D;

And, as with the chapters before this... _**This chapter has been edited from it's originally posted version, think of it as the Un-cut version.**_

Thanks for reading/re-reading and reviewing, of course! xD


	4. C3: Names To Swallow

**Warnings:** Language.

**Notes:** This chapter has been re-posted with a pretty major edit (like the first part of the chapter being added) xD Sorry about that.

Anyways, another long one~ (sweat drops) Enjoy!

* * *

**A Cook's Recipe For:**

Chapter Three: _Names to Swallow_

* * *

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_I'm sipping tea_

_and I suddenly remember_

_your name._

_it's on my lips that_

_are hesitating_

_to swallow._

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

* * *

Zzzz.

Zzz.

Pop.

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

1 box Kleenex

13 staring eyes

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Zoro left the bedroom as quietly as he could and headed towards the aquarium bar. When he got there, stumbling through the darkness, he grabbed the closest chair he could find and gripped the back of it. His head was swimming like the fish behind the large glass tank in front of him. This was beginning to be a little much, even for Zoro. He couldn't recall if this was the third or maybe the fourth night in a row that he'd woken up now, and he was tired of it. _Litterally_.

The swordsman rubbed his jaded eyes, and was rewarded with a dreary image of the back of his closed eye lids. The soothing feeling he usually got from that simple close-eyed image was gone now. The usual comfort of a good nap was lost to him against that wall of inky blackness.

It was because of the nightmares.

Zoro squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He knew one thing for sure. H e wasn't going to get back to sleep tonight. He knew Sanji had seen him get up, and he also knew that he and cook were acting like spoiled brats towards each other. The cook didn't deserve Zoro's cruelness, the swordsman knew. It seemed like Sanji was having enough problems of his own.

But the cook was being a dick. As usual. And Zoro just wasn't in the mood to play "nice guy." Not when Sanji had stirred up particular unwanted memories from Zoro's past.

The swordsman let his eyes wander to the back of the bar, where bottles of wine were stored. He counted the corks that were sticking out of the liquor cubbies. He didn't want the alcohol. And that fact just frustrated him even more. But he wanted his head clear. He wanted to be able to think without anything hindering his ability to do so.

Maybe meditation would help.

Zoro breathed out, picked a fish to stare at in the soft cerulean glow of the aquarium, and concentrated on it. The fish was big and blue. He willed his mind to clear. Let everything around him become a blur.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Out.

Focus on the rhythm of the fish's movements. Pay attention to the way the fish moved. Watch the damn blue fish as it swallows another smaller greenish fish.

The fucker.

Zoro sucked in air and growled it out. This wasn't relaxing him in the slightest. Zoro suddenly wanted nothing more than to get in the tank and cut the big, blue fish into pieces.

He opted instead for getting some fresh air. He stood from the bar stool he'd been seated on and headed towards the crow's nest. From there, he could probably steal some fortunate soul's watch duty.

Then he could train. Train and forget all about big blue fish eating smaller turquoise fish. Train and forget about the dreams of large white hawks killing small green grasshoppers. Or about candles. About things dying. About drowning. Train, and forget about stupid voices in his head that called him weak; and forget about those wide blue eyes staring at him through the darkness that were probably calling him the same damn thing.

Zoro nearly ripped the hatch to the deck off its hinges. Then he proceeded to stalk to the look-out tower, where Usopp nearly pissed his pants in fear or delight, Zoro wasn't really sure which.

And when the sun came up he made sure that the ship stayed quiet.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 handful of Grief

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The morning came too soon for Sanji.

The cook woke up with the soft yellow glow from an oil lamp filtering across his eyelids. He turned his head to search for the source and found Usopp hovering over him at the foot of the bed. Sanji groaned mentally. When he opened his eyes again there would _not _be a long nosed shithead standing above his legs. Not in a million years.

When silence met his ears instead of the snores that an early-rising-cook was accustomed to waking up to, the blonde's lethargy began to melt away a little more quickly, and he dared to peek out again.

Usopp was… _still _there!

"What are you doing, Crap-sniper?"

Usopp bounced a little in his activities, but didn't move or startle like Sanji had expected him to. "Hold on, almost done!" Usopp tooted proudly, in a voice that was too chipper.

The cook narrowed his eyes a little and forced a sit-up. He was immediately met with a mural of some sort covering his once stark white cast.

Sanji let a croaking, but impressed whistle slide from between his teeth. "Wow. How long've you been here?"

"Since Zoro kicked me out of my watch early this morning. I was bored and couldn't sleep, so I kept on the lookout for bed-bugs! They can get pretty gnarly, up to ten feet long and nine, No, nine_ty _feet wide…" Usopp rambled, his attention was focused mostly on the colored pens in his hand rather than on the fables his lips were crafting.

Sanji's brain worked hard to try and piece together parts of Usopp's sentence that he actually gave a shit about. He knew he'd heard Zoro get up last night, after the swordsman woke up again, screaming. Sanji had watched him, confused through his own insomnia, and then everything was a big blank. He figured he must've fallen asleep before he could follow, somewhere between him wishing that it was all a dream, and thinking about why the hell this was happening in any form of reality. "So, Marimo took watch?" He swallowed.

"Yeah, said he didn't want to sleep."

"The Moss-head didn't _want _to sleep?"

"Yeah. That's what he said." Usopp looked up from his drawings, saw the look painted on Sanji's face, then cast his eyes downward again. "I thought it was weird too."

Sanji hummed around a straight face and admired the paintings that Usopp was carefully administrating to the burdening bandage wrapped around his foot. He'd painted it a deep blue, a child's idea of the color of the sea, but contrasted it fully by the mature details of fish swimming across the cast. Sanji's eyes stuck to the little crabs and sea-turtles that the sniper was finishing up. It allowed his mind to wander.

Usopp glanced up from his work, "Hoped this would cheer you up!" Usopp was exclaiming suddenly, there was a soft laugh to his voice. Sanji liked the change as it took away the serious edge from the air. He squashed his musings and tried smiling instead.

"It's great, Usopp. Loads better than the depressing white."

"Yeah! And this is just the front. You were sleeping on your stomach when I got down here, so I painted all our heads."

Sanji blinked, and flexibly lifted his leg, bending and tucking his head beneath it so he could get a glimpse at Usopp's handy-work. Just as the marksman said, little faces of the crew were dotted in a vertical stripe down the back of the cast.

The little head of Nami caught his eye right away, a miniature red haired face with cute hearts dotted for her eyes. His heart gave a little thump. "Hey, that's hilarious! Great job." Sanji laughed at the expressions on the mini caricatured faces of his friends.

The bold expressions on the little images created a cartoony feel. Sweet Robin-chwan had a bloomed hand and was blowing a little kiss. Next was a Chopper head that looked utterly sweet and fuzzy, Sanji noted the innocent looking expression and wide eyes. Then Franky, winking and grinning. Usopp, sticking his tongue out and making a silly cross-eyed expression. Luffy, looking puppy-dog eyed with his mouth open and teeth trying to grip at a piece of meat that Usopp had drawn dangling from a string.

Sanji felt himself grinning.

And then there was Zoro at the bottom, his eyes were little 'U' shapes, signifying sleep, and was showing teeth in an out-of-character smile and blowing a little snot bubble. Sanji found his caricature appealing for some reason, like that was how Zoro was supposed to be. Calm and peaceful.

Now that Sanji looked closer, there were little snot bubbles floating around the drawing, tying them all together in a bubbled frame. Zoro's snot bubbles. The cactus head really did tie them all together in some strange way. Not like Luffy's rubber arms could hold them all, in a literally bound hug. Or how Usopp's stories brought everyone together to listen. It wasn't like Chopper's healings, Nami's orders, Robin's observations, Franky's ship, or Sanji's own cooking… No, Zoro held them together with something all his own.

With _snot bubbles_. Sanji shook his head, unable to find the answer. He was still mad at Zoro, after all. The stupid moss-head had blown everything out of proportion. The _idiot _had told Sanji that he didn't _trust _him. And that… well, that was a load of shitty bull crap.

It had to be.

Sanji's frown replaced his grin.

The swordsman's surrender last night with the dishes still left his mind sort of shattered. And then there was the whole thing with the hat and... "Aargh!"

"What's wrong, look, it says "Get Well Soon"" Usopp was giving Sanji a look as if he had gone crazy.

And maybe he had.

Sanji deflated and looked to where Usopp was pointing. Sure enough, the sympathetic message was written in neat black katakana along his heel.

The cook pursed his lips. He could think about the sword-bastard later. But he had other friends on this ship too. He pushed the issues with the swordsman to the back of his mind. The guy was too hard to figure out, especially before Sanji had his smoke and maybe a strong black coffee.

"Thanks, Usopp." Sanji nodded his approval, which made Usopp beam.

It was contagious. Sanji found himself smiling. Then yawned against his palm, and decided that he'd better get started on breakfast, at least. He still wasn't sure where everyone was. Maybe they'd got up early for some reason. Sanji swung his legs out of his cot. It didn't hurt like yesterday, and he was sure that it was already healing. Chopper's diagnosis of six weeks? Ridiculous. Sanji was sure he'd be walking on it before they docked in a measly three days.

Usopp handed him his crutches.

Sanji tucked the crutch cushions beneath his arms and carefully stood. He didn't land on his face. He didn't even stumble.

He thought this day was looking up. A bubbly feeling nudged him just below his ribs. Made him feel a little lighter.

And then he saw the straw hat, sitting abandoned on Zoro's couch. Sanji's lips thinned.

Memories from yesterday came flooding back again.

Memories of last night filled his mind.

Memories of Zoro dreaming, screaming, waking up, and walking out littered his head.

Sanji swore.

The stupid thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

"Hey, seriously though, glad you're up. It's way past lunch time!"

The cook froze. He looked back at Usopp, his blue eyes confused. "What?" He breathed, in a long sort of breath that tumbled past his tongue and clung on to his lips, "What time is it?"

"Probably early afternoon, you were sleeping hard!"

Sanji's mouth fell a little. "What? Why didn't you wake me up before?"

Usopp shrugged. "You're hurt. Besides, Zoro told us not to wake you."

Sanji's blue eyes narrowed. "He did?" Stupid, stupid swordsman. What the hell was up with that?

Sanji had slept through making breakfast. And probably lunch… "Shit."

Was Zoro still so pissed at him that he was trying to make Sanji look bad . The cook couldn't sleep through _cooking_. That was just… damn. He was going to kick the Marimo's head in.

He headed for the ship's surface with wide strides, forcing his crutches to take the stairs two at a time.

"Hey hey, Sanji, wait up! Slow down, let me get the door for you!" Usopp was talking behind him, jumping up and gathering his supplies quickly. Sanji had no time to wait for him. He had to kick some swordsman where it hurt. Worrying Sanji in the middle of the night, and then leaving the crew hungry to let him sleep in. It was uncalled for.

He forced the hatch of the cabin open with a powerful shove and nearly ran right into the living moss man himself. _Speak of the devil._

The swordsman had his hand raised, as if reaching for the door jamb to pull it open. Sanji swallowed the insults of "watch where you're going," or "out of the way" that were stacking up on his tongue when the sudden surprise of the other's appearance caught him off guard.

His crutch caught the odd edge of a step mid-hop, and the rubber end of the cook's walking aid slid backwards off the stairs. Sanji felt his shoulder jar when his arm slipped, and he would've been able to regain his balance, but Zoro was there. The cook reached out, accidently struck Zoro in the temple with the back of his hand, and lost hold of his crutch. He grabbed hold of Zoro's shirt instead, trying to find leverage there.

"Hey, _hey!_" Zoro grunted, and stumbled against the added and unexpected weight.

Sanji was forced to lean back, Zoro was forced forward, and they were both falling.

Zoro's breath hitched. He reached out to grab the other man, pulling him tightly to his chest before gravity stole him.

The swordsman fell hard, thunked his knee against the step, and felt the sharp corner of a stair jabbing into his ribs as they continued to tumble down the short flight to the bottom.

The two stumbled down the stairs until the wall broke their fall.

Sanji landed on top of the swordsman, and air left both of their lungs in a rush. Sanji felt Zoro's arms around his back, holding him flush against his chest. Zoro felt his own head crack angrily into the wardrobe. The dresser they'd bumped into rattled, shook, and the door flew open beside them. A jacket lost its' grip on one of the hangers and fell down to shroud both their faces in blackness.

Zoro was the first to reach up and yank the disturbing clothing article off his face. He found himself nose to nose with the damn cook. Sanji blinked, wide-eyed. Zoro's own eyes were wide. His let his gaze flicker over the cook's face, studying him, feeling his lost breath returning slowly. The cook was panting on top of him.

"Sanji, Zoro, are you guys okay!" Usopp was still there, he was frantic. The markers he'd been picking up before were once more in a scattered mess around his feet.

Sanji shuddered. "M'fine, Usopp." He gasped.

Zoro stayed quiet for a moment longer than anyone would have liked. He held onto the blonde a little tighter, as if having trouble piecing together what had just happened.

"Sh-should I go get Chopper?" Usopp gasped out, he was kneeling next to the two now. His hands hovering, not sure of what to do.

"Shit, maybe." Sanji's voice sounded startled, he was glancing down at the swordsman. "Marimo smashed his head against that."

Zoro grit his teeth, finally coming out of his startled daze. "We're fine." He said gruffly, ears ringing. He felt the blonde studying his face. He turned his eyes to Usopp, keeping his gaze to the wall behind the sniper's head intentionally. "I'm fine. Don't tell Chopper." The way he said it rang with finality.

"Y-you sure?" Usopp fought and failed to get a direct look from him.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll see him later. Hey, Usopp," Both men startled at the calmness of Zoro's voice, the way he was still grasping the cook, and the way he wouldn't make direct eye contact with either of them. "Franky needed your help with something."

Sanji's face was still flushed, and he and Usopp shared a look, not able to determine if there was a lie on the swordsman's lips.

"'Kay," Usopp swallowed. "I'll go see what he needs. Sure you guys are okay? That fall looked nasty."

Sanji was trying to search Zoro's eyes. Wondering if the Marimo-bastard really was okay, but Zoro wouldn't look at him. The other's tight expression finally forced Sanji's decision. If Zoro needed a doctor, they'd probably know it, and there would probably be more blood.

"Nah, we're stronger than some stairs, Ussop. It's okay." Sanji tried to laugh, it sounded nervous. His voice came out strained. Zoro tensed beneath him. Usopp stood up, Sanji saw him rub his long nose.

"Um, okay. M-make food soon, Sanji. Thanks for taking my watch last night, Zoro. I'm sure you want to sleep." Usopp stumbled over his words, mumbling quickly, nervously. The tension was palpable. Ready to snap. The sharpshooter re-gathered his pens, stuck them in a leather sack and headed for the stairs. He sensed danger in the air. The weird disgruntled aura that had been floating around Zoro for the past few days scared the shit out of him. So he wouldn't argue. Wouldn't piss Zoro off any further.

Sanji morosely heard Usopp scuttle up the steps behind him, a large vulnerable lump growing in his throat. Had Zoro meant for the marksman to leave? Was he still mad? Why the hell wasn't he shoving the blonde away? Usopp's footfalls grew faint, disappeared. There was heavy silence after the hatch closed.

"Hey, Zo-"

"Quit doing shit like that!" The swordsman suddenly yelled, cutting Sanji off.

The cook's eyes widened.

Zoro's nostrils flared. He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. He hadn't meant to get so angry, but Sanji… falling down the stairs. Zoro suddenly felt like that shithead was intentionally mocking him. A sudden wince from the blonde chef brought Zoro back from his disturbed thoughts.

Sanji had no idea what Zoro was talking about. And the more the blonde looked into the swordsman's eyes, the more lost he became. The swordsman's face had a haunted look. Like he was seeing something that wasn't really there. At least, something that wasn't Sanji. He seemed completely rattled.

The cook shivered, despite the heat radiating from both of their tense bodies. His foot was hurting again, but the pain was minimal. What was really bugging the blonde was the strong fingers, like iron clothespins, digging into his arms. Zoro's hands holding on to him so tightly, so protectively, as if to hold him together. But they were squeezing the life out of him, in a terrified grip, that was only becoming tighter.

"Zoro, let go..." Sanji was whispering, his eyes were seared shut.

The swordsman's fingers instantly became brittle at the plea. They folded away lifelessly from their vice-like handle. Zoro didn't utter a word, and slowly, almost cautiously unwound his arms from the folded hold that he'd locked Sanji into when they both fell. He hadn't meant to grab the cook like that. He hadn't. His head was throbbing sickeningly.

"Shithead." Sanji's voice ghosted quietly, a little breathless. His arms were shaking from the adrenaline that surged through him from their tumble. He forced them to balance steadily as he pushed himself up to straddle across Zoro's upper body. "Look, I didn't mean to fall. Okay. It was an accident, Marimo."

A thick tension was left surrounding them. Sanji breathed out and Zoro swallowed.

"Whatever." Zoro's voice finally bled into the stillness, a little shaken. His words were hesitant, as if trying to decide whether to believe the blonde or not. He snuffed in a short breath. "These your stupid recipes?"

Sanji blinked and his eyes darted to Zoro's fists that were hovering over three small laminated cards across his chest. They must've fallen out of the jacket, which was now a careless heap on the ground beside them.

Zoro rose up a little and the cards fluttered off him, revealing the quick jotted prints of the chef's handwriting.

Sanji leaned back, allowing the swordsman room to help himself up. The cook stayed kneeling as the swordsman stood, his knees were digging themselves into the hard grain of the floor.

Zoro saw something flicker in the cook's eye as he climbed to his feet. It looked painful. He was about to ask if Sanji had jarred his foot again, but the blonde looked okay. He didn't seem broken anywhere else, at least. But there was an angry, humiliated flare in his eyes. The swordsman followed the cook's gaze, where his vision was pointing laser beams at the crumpled piece of clothing.

Zoro suddenly didn't think it was because the cook was hurt. And it wasn't the fact that those recipe cards were lying so innocently on the floor.

It must've been something else.

Something having to do with the jacket.

Before the swordsman could ask, however, Sanji had scooped the fallen cards off the floor, and tucked them inside the suit he was currently wearing.

"Found 'em." The cook mumbled. His cheeks were flushed.

Zoro saw Sanji's hands trembling from where his fingers had formed fists, hanging by his sides.

Something in Zoro's head clicked. He made the connection back and forth between the suit jacket lying harmlessly on the floor and the stare that Sanji was pinning it with.

"You wore that jacket yesterday," The swordsman stated slowly. "They were in that jacket pocket the whole time, right?" Zoro asked. From the way Sanji flinched, he guessed he had it right.

And oh man, was this an interesting, yet hilariously disgusting turn of events.

Sanji was blaming the coat for nothing, Zoro was sure, but he probably was blaming himself for being such a fool yesterday.

It was mostly Sanji's fault, after all.

Zoro wanted to laugh in Sanji's face. Hard. But he didn't. He wouldn't. Because, it wasn't funny. There was still something about the whole situation that Zoro wasn't ready to let go of yet. He needed it to simmer, had to come to terms with it. He needed to sleep peacefully first.

Zoro wanted to kick that moron, but settled for something a little less violent and a little more humiliating, "Can you get up?"

The blonde's head shook softly.

"Good," Zoro whispered. "Don't." The swordsman's voice rumbled humorlessly, and then he stalked over to the couch where he usually slept. Luffy's hat was sitting on the pillow where he'd left it.

Sanji watched mutely as Zoro picked up the straw headgear, tucked it beneath his right arm, and then reached for his boots. The swordsman picked them up, pulled them on, and clomped toward the staircase again.

He left without another word. Not even a backwards glance.

They were both sure that they wouldn't speak to each other for the rest of the afternoon.

Sanji hung his head, dazed. He stretched his arm out, crumpled the fabric of the double-crossing coat between one fist, and flung it into the wardrobe it'd fallen out of.

He didn't think to check the _inside _pockets. The most obvious of places. And the more he turned the thought over in his head, the shittier the thought became. It seemed impossible. Sanji wondered if someone was actually messing with him. His hands raised to his hair where his fingers dug themselves into his scalp.

An odd empty feeling filled him then and Sanji blinked away the frustration that was glossing over his eyes. Zoro was such an asshole.

He sighed, defeated, and then waited a while before he was able to pull himself to his feet.

When Sanji finally made it up on deck, he was hit with a wet chill. It had definitely been raining. The smell of fresh watery air tickled his nose and flooded his senses. Sanji welcomed it, breathed it in, and tried to let it clear his head a bit.

Across the deck he saw Zoro headed towards the figurehead where Luffy was staring out at sea.

Sanji felt a desperate sort of ache tearing at his heart when he saw the swordsman.

The hat was handed back to his captain with a small shrug.

Sanji listened, but Luffy didn't laugh. Sanji listened, but Zoro didn't explain. Sanji listened to his captain's footsteps leading Zoro's lazy footfalls the opposite way towards the aquarium bar until he could no longer hear the words that weren't being said.

Sanji patted his pockets, felt the rectangular folds of traitorous paper, and then felt the soothing shape of a rectangular cigarette pack. He took the latter out immediately, feeling the need for a release.

He headed towards the railing so he could smoke and look out at the sea at the same time. Hoping to calm himself.

And, Sanji reasoned with himself that one more bad day probably wouldn't _kill _him. Because at that moment, he slipped on the wet deck. He didn't go down like their tumble in the bedroom just a little while ago, but it was a slip, all the same. And it was just as earth shattering.

Sanji would later think of that small slip as a near-death experience

He caught himself, but his cigarette pack flew from his hand. Sanji's world flipped into slow motion, and he watched in a sick sort of fascination as the box, and the seven remaining smokes went over the ship's railing. There was a dull splash.

It was all Newton's law… or some old shit geezer like that. Frued? Darwin? _Murphy_! Sanji knew. Damn laws of the universe.

What can go wrong, will go wrong, and then Mr. Murphy would come and kick Sanji's black and blue ass.

Sanji tried to find a bright side to all this. At least the sea had swallowed them instead of a black hole having to open up and suck his only relief inside. But the more Sanji thought about it, the more he considered how terribly unfortunate it was that a black hole hadn't came… maybe he could've gotten sucked up right along inside it too. Instead, he was stuck here, having to deal with his unsatisfied cravings.

It was just his luck. He sunk against the railing.

No matter what, he wouldn't say that it couldn't get any worse…

After that, the day ticked by without any more incidents.

It turned out that Franky really did need Usopp's help.

Afternoon slowly bled into night.

Sanji learned that his crew wasn't starving, thankfully. His darling Nami-swan had fed everyone using the leftovers that Sanji had tucked away from the day before. He didn't cut himself, didn't burn anything, and didn't once spill a drop of food while prepping for the next meal.

Dinner came and went.

Zoro didn't eat much. Sanji noted, a little disturbed.

It was fine with him. And yet, it wasn't.

In the end, Sanji didn't say anything.

In fact, Zoro didn't say anything to him either.

Neither one said a word throughout the entire meal to anyone.

Zoro took watch. Again.

He did both shifts.

* * *

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

4 haunting nightmares

1 1/3 tsp. salt

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next day went by in a blur for the Straw Hat Pirate's resident swordsman.

And if bad luck had found the cook again, Zoro didn't take the time to notice, or care. He was having trouble paying attention to much of anything lately. The migraine he had the day before hadn't completely gone away over night, and that was before he'd knocked his head again. Now an even worse ache had formed against his right temple after his little tumble with Sanji yesterday. And his headache wasn't the only thing that stuck around. There was also the angry and disgusted feelings he got whenever he looked in Sanji's general direction. He did, however, feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards Usopp, who had put himself in charge of making Sanji's pathetic existence a little easier, since Zoro was obviously not going to do it. The long nose was fussing more than Chopper. Helping Sanji cook and clean up after meals, taking the Love Cook's daily watch whenever necessary, keeping Luffy from snatching free samples from the kitchen.

And Sanji was being just as moody as usual, if not more so. If Zoro assessed the situation the right way, he could see a worry line here or there surrounding the Cook's swirly eyebrow, which only accentuated the blonde's frustration even more. This confirmed to Zoro that the cook was bothered by something slightly larger than a mere unlucky past couple of days.

But who cared? Because Prince Charming _still_ hadn't really apologized, and Zoro was actually sick of their little grudge match.

The swordsman frowned at the acidic ache in his stomach. He had more to focus on rather than the cook. Had more to worry about besides the ridiculous quarrels and squabbles that was part of their everyday lives.

Zoro was determined for things to get back to normal, and he was going to make it happen if that was the last thing he did.

The nightmares hadn't returned that night either. Of course, Zoro hadn't slept at all. That had to have something to do with it. But he was going to make these nightmares come to an end.

The morning had found Zoro beneath Nami's tangerine grove, pumping heavy iron. Deep circles were beneath his eyes. Robin was eying him warily from her tanning chair on the balcony.

Zoro ignored her curious gaze as it folded over him and upped the weight he was packing.

He trained all day, not even stopping for lunch. Franky brought him out a sandwich, but he refused to eat it. He had no appetite. The sandwich was given to Luffy a few minutes later, who ate it energetically and without question.

The weather was hot. It didn't rain. There was no breeze. He opted to stay out of the kitchen and drank water from the bathroom sink instead. He didn't nap at all. If anyone noticed, no one said anything. In fact, he'd been left in peace for the better half of the day, which was unheard of. The crew had either sensed a deadly venom soaking out through his pores, or he'd been too tired to keep up with the haze of whatever was going on around him.

It wasn't until dinner time that Luffy and finally Chopper had to come to convince him to take a break and come eat. Zoro flexed his numb arms. He'd lost count of how many reps he'd done, but Zoro thought he might have broken his own record of 29,000.

The dining room was noisy and filled with chatter, just like normal. Zoro fell into an empty seat at the table and downed the water glass that was sitting in front of him. He set it back down with a thunk, and when he blinked, the glass was full again.

"Nice of you to join us, muscle-head," Sanji scoffed. Zoro glanced up in time to see the blonde retreating with the water pitcher, playing waiter. He ignored the cook's banter and instead took interest in his drink again. His hand gripped the cup. He guzzled the second glass and then a third.

The meal continued on, stories and jibes were traded back and forth. Zoro listened with half an ear open. Everyone's voice sounded fuzzy, muddled. He couldn't keep track of the words spilling out of Usopp's lips and the girl's gossip at the same time like he usually could. Soon everything faded into a mumble of muted sounds and white noise that surrounded him.

Zoro lifted the water to his lips again and practically inhaled his fifth or sixth or eighth glass. He'd stopped counting, just focusing on the fact that the cold liquid made his head pound a little less fiercely.

"Mumblemumblemumble-Zo-ro-mumblemumble…"

The swordsman blinked when he heard someone call his name. The rest of the sentence was sorely lost to him. He glanced up, and noticed in a slow sort of revelation that everyone had gone silent.

He blinked again and the world seemed to come into focus a little better. The first thing his vision fell on was the cook again, who was hovering too close, long fingers actually resting on the back of his neck. The swordsman shook off the Love Cook's icy hand, which felt way too comforting for his taste. The water pitcher was still in the blonde's other fist. Zoro hadn't noticed while he'd been sloshing back the stuff, but Sanji must've filled his glass time and time again. Zoro sure as hell didn't fill his own glass.

Sanji met the swordsman's eyes and then frowned at the lump of Marimo that was sitting at his table.

The green-haired man let his eyes fall away silently, and glanced around at the rest of the crew. He flinched at their hard stares. The swordsman shook his head quickly, and let the noise flood his senses again. Slowly the haze began to dissipate.

"You feelin' alright, sword-bro?" Franky asked.

Zoro startled. He once again hadn't made a dent in finishing his dinner. The plate that Sanji had painstakingly worked over for the past two hours was still full and Zoro's fork was resting dejectedly on the napkin beside it. He let his dark eyes wander over to the older cyborg out of common courtesy and gave him a small nod.

Zoro felt Chopper's eyes raking over him and gave a sigh. "I'm fine," he reassured, "it's just a headache, just kinda tired."

There was a pregnant pause. "Do you want some aspirin?" Chopper asked quickly, not even going about his usual jittery diagnosis period to holler for a doctor. Zoro wondered vaguely if he really looked that awful to be the reason for the serious frowns dotting his crew mate's faces.

"Too much booze?" Nami teased softly from beside him, shaking a half-full flask of whiskey next to his ear. Zoro heard the sloshing noise from the jar, longed for the buzz that he knew it might give him, and held back. He waved away the girl's offer with a one handed flick.

Nami blinked at him and her brown eyes melted a little. "You're turning down alcohol?"

"Just not in the mood." He muttered.

Robin's hand bloomed out of his shoulder and pressed against his forehead before Zoro had a chance to retaliate, "Are you ill, Mr. Swordsman?"

Zoro blushed helplessly, "Hell no. Quit doing that, woman, it's freaky!" He gnashed his teeth at the girl's extra appendage blooming from his own. When his head whirled, he stopped.

"You sure didn't eat much." Usopp commented. Zoro slouched, overcome with fatigue. He studied the food on his plate, but his stomach just turned a blind cheek to it. It stayed dormant, and a growling never occurred.

Zoro felt the cook's eyes on him again. His stare was a hot coal smoldering against his shoulder blades. He hadn't seen Sanji all day. There was a reason for that. He was purposefully avoiding him the most. He just wasn't up for arguing anymore. Any anger he'd been feeling was dulled, just as the rest of his emotions were.

"Is there something wrong with the food?"

Zoro's shoulders drooped tiredly. "No, there's not. There never is." He bit out, sounding a little less frustrated than he felt. Zoro paused, not even registering that he'd complimented the cook before it was too late to take it back. He didn't care anyways. He didn't look at Sanji. "My head just…"

"Zoro! You said you'd be better after you trained!" Luffy was suddenly shouting, suddenly accusing. His eyes were wide and frantic in a way that only Luffy could dramatize.

"After I trained, and slept." There was a weary ring in his tone. It sounded abnormal. Zoro fingered a corner of his cloth placemat and his eyes met his captain's across the dinner table.

"Then sleep!" Luffy exclaimed, and then lowered his voice when he'd seen his swordsman draw back a bit, "and you'll be better again, right?"

"B-better?" Chopper squeaked. His eyes were suddenly dinner plates in size.

"Don't worry about it, Chopper." Zoro appeased. "I'm not sick. I'm fine."

Chopper eyed him disbelievingly. As did a few others. "I am." He placated.

"Right, okay, you do look tired." The little reindeer nodded, his stiff posture slackening a little. His comfort returning from the rare smile on Zoro's lips that was turned his way.

"Yeah, so I'll go do that now. Rest." There were a few nods of agreement around the table. Zoro became straight-faced again and stood, a little slowly, using the table as a support. His vision swayed when he turned to leave, but he kept on walking, concentrating on the steps it would take him to get to the door. He was just tired. He just needed sleep. Real sleep.

"Zoro." Luffy's voice reached him before he made it to the exit, just like before. Always when his back was turned, and that's why it made him so edgy.

Zoro craned his head back over his shoulder to look at his captain's aloof grin. When his eyes met his captain's something in Luffy's expression changed. It was small, but even with dizzy vision Zoro could sense it. He swallowed around whatever was suddenly lodged in his throat. "Yeah, Luffy, you can finish my dinner."

Instead of the usual whoop of joy that would have spurred, Luffy surprised him yet again by _refusing _the offer. "Nah, I'll have Sanji cover it for you!" He grinned. Zoro saw the rest of the crew's eyes widen almost comically, and then all eyes followed their captain's gaze, creeping over to rest on the swordsman's retreating form.

Zoro blinked again, not really liking the sudden attention. He decided he should turn this event into something that held a little more normalcy and not so much weight. He shouldered his crew's unneeded concern, and tried to make a more characteristic snort. It halfway worked. It just turned out a little breathy and exhausted.

"Great," Zoro said, trying his best to sound uninterested, even though he couldn't find the words to describe the flattered feeling that was suddenly overwhelming his insides. "Was there something you needed?"

Luffy clapped his hands together in a slap that made the mostly empty dishes bounce in a joyous explosion, "Oh yeah." The rubber boy's eyes danced, "Don't take your watch tonight. Captain's orders!"

Zoro nodded, cocking an eyebrow at the way Luffy had so casually thrown his weight around. Although, he couldn't say he wasn't grateful. It was an order from Luffy that was actually… strangely… thoughtful. He turned his head and hid a smile for his captain that had formed over his lips. "Thanks." He murmured, and then gave a tired wave over his shoulder and whispered a, "G'night."

"Sanji! Pass the meaaat!" Was heard from back inside the galley when Zoro pressed the door closed behind him. He let his grin eat at his lips for a moment before reminding himself why he was out there in the first place. His smile faded.

It was too cold to sleep out on deck, so he'd have to retire to the bedroom. At least he wouldn't be disturbed there for a good few hours. His eyes lidded on themselves heavily.

The swordsman slunk to the bedroom. He peeled off his haramaki and slung it over the arm of his couch. Next he let his swords fall at the foot of his cot. The metal clinked soothingly as the sheathed weapons hit the floor.

Zoro's eyes closed on their own and he was immediately met with the comforting darkness behind them. It took him a moment to settle, and soon found his body turning into a big, gooey puddle against the soft cushions. He'd kept himself awake the night before, and all through the day. He trained until his stomach muscles cramped and wheezed and his arms burned and stung.

In short, he was exhausted.

He was exhausted, and he was certain that he could sleep through anything. That was his plan after all. He was ready for rest, and his mind wouldn't deny his body of what it craved the most; of this, Zoro was sure.

The silence around the bunk room bounced off the walls and sung him a soothing lullaby. And soon, Zoro was drifting away in the comforting darkness, and soothing silence, and he couldn't have been more grateful…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Throw in a pinch of misunderstandings.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Zoro's best friend and rival was a swordsman. And she was better than him.

It was quiet and Zoro found himself screaming her name. He could hear his own voice struggling out of his throat and could actually see the path way it made towards her prone form. Zoro's cries, Kuina's name, in bubble-shaped letters snaking through the blood blue grass in red and white hues.

And then she was charging at him. They were in the field where they would always train, safely away from the dojo. They were fighting. It was so familiar. The air that surrounded the hillside was tangy with anticipation. Zesty with a need to become the best.

Zoro gripped the training stick tightly in his fist as he charged towards her, aided by the full moon's hungry light. He could see her body, outlined in silver; could see her stance, could see how she turned and twisted with her own sword.

Zoro struck, and then everything shifted, sucking like a vortex around him.

He closed his eyes for a second and the moonlight turned into an eerie red when he opened them again. He was face to face with Kuina now, and he had cut her. A mini blade that he never remembered holding was clenched in his fist; was stabbed into her chest.

Words on her lips, that were voiceless, called him weak.

Zoro shoved harder until he was watching her topple over the edge of some random ravine, and then down an endless flight of stairs, and fall into a black flatness that he couldn't really see the bottom to.

He looked down, could see her twisted and mangled corpse. Bloody and still falling. His vision turned black and white. He had beaten her. And without warning blood began pouring from his own chest, streaking down the small knife that was now imbedded into his heart. He gasped a soundless gasp and stumbled in his grey world. He fell towards her lifeless body.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Toss Lightly.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The sensation of falling jolted Zoro out of his nightmare and into the real world. He felt his legs spasm and reached forward blindly, gripping at nothing. When he felt the soft familiar fabric of the couch pooling around his body he physically deflated. The swordsman cracked his eyes open. He was in bed, his mind told him. He was safe. He was safe and in bed and home. There was no blood on his hands. He rubbed them together to be sure before wiping them off on his shirt. It was damp with nothing more than sweat. It was all just a dream. A nightmare. He'd never killed Kuina. Never stabbed anyone with a dagger.

That dream was more vivid than the others. A little more haunting.

Zoro's chest ached falsely as he struggled to sit up. His head pounded recklessly, his temples beating swiftly like his heart. I'm okay. His mind chanted. Everything's fine. He tried again. His heart continued going ape shit and he wobbled to his feet. His legs felt numb as he kicked aside his boots, too distracted to pull them on.

He looked around the bedroom, noticed Luffy, Usopp, and Franky were sound asleep in their bunks. He envied the peaceful smiles pulling across each of their faces. He longed for the pleasant dreams that he was used to; was aching for a good night's rest. Zoro moved for the door, wanting to breathe some fresh air into his startled lungs. He felt so heavy.

Zoro tried his best not to slam the door to the men's quarters behind him. Trying to sleep was getting to be a ridiculous chore. Hadn't all of those naps in the past built up some sort of immunity to needing sleep now? From the way Zoro's head whirled from just standing there; apparently not.

Images of his childhood friend falling down flights of stairs and off of crow's nests and tippy tops of mountains or bridges or buildings kept plaguing him. Dreams like the one he'd just experienced kept recurring, like zombies that just wouldn't get the hint and eternally die. Zoro felt his stomach turn and clenched his eyes shut.

A bloody Kuina fell behind his eyelids.

Zoro's eyes ripped themselves open with a snarl.

They wouldn't stop. No matter what he tried, the nightmares wouldn't leave him in peace. He'd tried training harder. Tried training less. Meditation. No meditation. Drinking didn't help. Being sober made him feel like a complete wacko. The crew wasn't helping. Sanji was making things worse. There was no island to distract himself with for miles and miles. Nothing was working! Nothing at all was working. Like when he was young…

He stumbled over to the side railing and leaned heavily against the banister. The sea around him was calm. Waves were gently rolling in the darkness and blending in with the night sky when it got too far away to see. He wished his mind could be that calm, drifting away like the tide. The sea was slowly lapping against the ship's hull as they kept a steady pace.

Zoro pushed away from the side, feeling sick. He thought about leaning over it again and making himself throw up but he didn't think that was a wise decision. He'd hardly eaten anything that day again and the whirling in his head could have been from hunger. He had hoped it could be from hunger, but knew it was from lack of rest. If he kept this up, and they got attacked by marines or other pirates, he'd be screwed.

He spun around and looked up at the sky, painted with stars. His eyes zigzagged across them, making shapes and patterns as he connected the twinkling dots. Not once did they connect to create a picture that resembled anything he could recognize.

Zoro found a strange sense of comfort getting lost in the nothingness they formed for him, until his eyes finally fell on the crow's nest perched high above him. He wondered who had ended up with his watch duty and for a split second thought about disobeying Luffy and going to relieve them. He was given a harsh slap back to reality as a vision of Kuina's massacred corpse fell off the watch tower's roof and slammed into the deck at his feet. Zoro jumped, he shook his head harshly to clear it.

Damn hallucinations.

His heart was exploding. He blamed Sanji for mentioning _that _one. _"Go jump off the crow's nest" _the cook had mocked, _"it's a lot higher…and less bumpy."_

Zoro grit his teeth.

He turned away from the nest, not liking the way the tower loomed so high and deadly, were someone actually to drop off it. Zoro shuddered on reflex, and then cursed himself for being so ridiculous.

Unconsciously, he made his way towards the galley, feeling dizzy and exhausted and miserable. The wind outside was eerie, and he didn't like the words that it was whispering to him. Over and over, like a teasing mantra. Calling him weak. This had to stop. He needed to _sleep_. A white dreamless sleep. His hand came in contact with the kitchen door and he slowly pressed his weight against it. It was heavier than he remembered it ever being. Zoro cursed, holding the door with his foot and sighed in relief when he was met with a dark, empty, kitchen. If Sanji would have been in there, he didn't know what he'd do. He just might… crack?

Zoro felt a drop in his stomach as he stared into the blackness, and felt the wind nudging him gently from behind until he was far enough into the galley that the door closed behind him on its own. And then he was met with silence, and an empty room. The pots and pans stared back at him blankly from their place where Sanji'd set them out to dry. Everything was quiet. Zoro could hear shaky breathing and bit his lip when he realized that it was his own.

He needed to get a hold of himself. Needed this to end.

Everything felt off, out of whack. Without thinking, his feet began carrying him through the kitchen and towards the doorway at the end of the dinner table. Soft yellow light trickled out from behind the closed door of Chopper's office. Zoro vaguely wondered if the little doctor would be there, and knocked anyways. His knuckles gently licked the smooth wood as he waited for a signal of life from behind it. It wasn't a few second later that a small voice called back to him, beckoning him inside.

Zoro turned the knob and peeked his head through the crack that he'd opened. "Hey, you're still up." He greeted softly, and then swallowed. Zoro didn't recognize his own voice.

"Hey Zoro!" Chopper greeted excitedly. The little doctor waved the older man inside and so Zoro shuffled in, closing the door behind him as Chopper continued to grind a stone against some smooth marble. "I'm just finishing something up before my watch." The reindeer answered the swordsman's unspoken question.

Zoro made a little sound in the back of his throat as he stood in the middle of the small office and watched the doctor work. He raised his eyes and let them roam over the shelves where the bottles in the back half of the lab sat. The clear bottles had words and pictures scrawled across their labels. Zoro glanced back at the reindeer, grinding away. Some kind of green plant was being squished between Chopper's stone and slab. Zoro felt something for that herb, stuck between a rock and a hard place, like he knew how it felt. And soon, it'd probably end up in a little glass jar, on one of Chopper's shelves, unable to escape.

Zoro swayed on his feet, caught himself, and then headed unsteadily for the bed. He sat down heavily and then felt Chopper's eyes watching him. He buried his head in his hands and leaned forward with his elbows sticking into his knees.

"I'm just about finished here…" The reindeer started, and then faltered. Zoro heard Chopper putting down his tools quickly and hopping off his desk chair. "Zoro, is everything alright? Was there something you needed? How's your head feeling, any better? Worse?" The little reindeer's voice sounded troubled, and Zoro hoped that he didn't look as bad as he felt right then.

"Feels the same." Zoro finally whispered. "Chopper…" He mumbled, and felt the doctor stop just in front of him.

"Give me just a second, I'll grab something for you."

"No, wait. Just wait. I need… to talk to you, Doctor."

Chopper stopped, eyes narrowing into concerned half circles. The way the swordsman addressed Chopper frightened the little doctor. It was with his title, so Chopper knew that Zoro wasn't fooling around. He wanted a doctor, and so Chopper would give him one. "Zoro, what is it?"

Zoro breathed out, felt his breath hitch, "I'm uh, Chopper I can't sleep." He confessed.

Chopper's little blue nose twitched. "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah. And even if I do fall asleep I wake up a few minutes later, terrified from some damn nightmare."

"How long has this been going on, Zoro?"

"Couple days. Maybe two, three."

"That long?"

"Day before the cook got hurt. It's gotten worse… since." Zoro stopped talking, he trailed off sadly. The fight they'd had during Sanji's off day was fresh in his mind.

"Why didn't you come tell me sooner?"

"I thought it'd just go away." The swordsman murmured. He suddenly felt far away. There was tension like a crazy sort of Slinky turning over itself in his gut. He grunted, and lifted a hand to his mouth.

Chopper watched him a moment, eyes large and professional, concerned and knowing. "Are you going to be sick?" He asked seriously, air growing tense.

Zoro swiftly shook his head, pocketing the nauseous feeling. He took his hand away, sorry for scaring the little animal. The doctor set a bowl next to his lap anyways.

Chopper rested his hooves together. "I can give you some sleeping pills. I think I have just the ones to do the trick." Chopper started scanning his medicine bottles on the shelf near the sink. Zoro watched him examining jars that didn't have labels and setting them aside in a line along the drain.

When three jars with skulls and crossbones were set up on the sink's ledge, Zoro didn't know what to think. He stared at them, eyes shifting between the three containers, then back towards Chopper's bustling form. A stray antler caught one of the jars when the little deer bent over, and Zoro watched helplessly as the poisonous contents plummeted towards the ground.

Why was everything falling?

Crumbling around him.

Falling…

"Chopper!"

Chopper's ears perked as Zoro called his name. He saw the jar teeter and caught it just before it could shatter into a million unfixable pieces.

Bottle safely in one hoof, the doctor wiggled a little embarrassed on the spot. "Whoops, that was close." He chanted. "Thanks a bunch, Zoro!"

The swordsman let out a taut breath of relief, and his eyes shadowed uncomfortably. He tried to swallow, and felt something terribly foreign boiling beneath his sinuses. His vision was suddenly blurred. He tried to blink to clear it. Something wet tumbled down his cheek. His blood froze. What the hell was happening to him? What was _wrong_ with him? A feeling of weakness traipsed through his mind.

A hasty sniffle was the only response Chopper got. The doctor's ears perked again. He turned around.

"Zoro…?"

Zoro quickly wiped at his face where wet lines were marking his tanned skin. He felt Chopper's eyes on him. "I hate this." He panted, voice quaking. "I hate feeling like this. I don't know what's happening... dunno what's happening to me."

Chopper took a few choice steps and quickly put a hoof to his patient's knee. "Are you crying?" There was a sniff, a long wet swallow. Chopper's eyes melted. "Hey, it's alright, it'll be okay." He soothed, a little uncertain.

The reindeer looked up at the distraught swordsman with wide, unbelieving eyes. He'd never expected Zoro to come to him with something like this. He could see it from one of the girls, or Franky, or Usopp, or if he pushed it, maybe even Sanji. But not Luffy, and certainly not Zoro. Yet, here the swordsman was. Sitting on Chopper's sickbed. Having a breakdown. Chopper quickly scampered up on Zoro's lap, wrapping his tiny arms around the swordsman's stomach. And that's when Zoro lost it. The dam burst and Zoro started sobbing silently, yet uncontrollably.

Chopper had a second to freak out before quickly moving from his patient's lap, and turning into heavy point. He shape shifted into human form and wrapped an arm around his crew mate's back, pulling Zoro close.

Zoro couldn't breathe. He tried to make the air go in and out of his lungs, but the tears were coming too fast, and his breath was getting caught in his throat every time he tried to inhale. Like a tangled mass of barbed air. He felt Chopper's presence nearby, and then leave him, and then suddenly surround him, and he felt humiliated but could care less. He felt his doctor, in human form now, wrapping him in strong furry arms.

"Zoro, Zoro breathe, okay?"

The sound of someone knocking on Chopper's lab door made them both jump. Chopper smoothed a hand across Zoro's back, drawing the man close, before calling out to the person outside. Sanji peeked his head in a second later, just as Zoro had done, but then froze.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were busy." Sanji apologized quickly. Zoro didn't look back, burying his head further into Chopper's fur, finding solace there.

"It's okay, Sanji. Is it time for my watch already?"

"Y-yeah, but if you're busy here, don't worry about it. I'll take it." The cook said softly, Zoro could hear the concern smoothing around the cook's vocal chords, sounding similar to pity.

Zoro wanted to push himself away, to stop these tears from trailing down his face, to stop these embarrassing sobs from coming out of him. He felt so weak! So completely messed up, and weak, and ridiculous. And now Sanji had seen him, so what was the point? He fisted Chopper's velvety shorts in his hand, and caved in a little more so that the deer was supporting most of his weight.

"Shit, Zoro, you doing okay there? Did something happen?" Sanji's voice drifted in again. He could feel Chopper holding him a little tighter, rubbing his back in gentle circles.

"He's just not feeling so good right now, Sanji."

"I can make you both something to drink. Maybe something warm? Or I can heat up some Sake." Sanji sounded unsure, and his voice was getting softer. "Zoro…?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Sanji, can you warm up some milk?"

"Right away." The cook nodded, and Zoro heard the door close quietly when he left.

"Shit." He cursed into Chopper's fur. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Zoro, it's okay, take it easy. Just keep breathing. I need you to calm down. You're shaking so much."

"The cook saw that. The fucking cook saw me, just… lose it… I can't…" Zoro trailed off, he tried to push himself away, but Chopper tightened his hold, squishing the swordsman into warm fur.

"It's alright. It's Sanji, he won't say anything, you know he won't."

Chopper felt him tense even more, "He'll say whatever he damn well wants!"

The swordsman's broken voice made the doctor's own eyes water. "Zoro, it doesn't matter. We're going to get you through this now, alright?" Chopper whispered into his ear. His tender voice was soothing.

Zoro nodded tiredly. "Please Chopper. I just want to sleep. I just want to forget."

"Okay. Sanji's making some warm milk. I think that will help if I do give you drugs too."

"Milk… milk makes me sick." Zoro stuttered; his bottom lip trembled as he urged his cries to quell.

"This won't. I'm going to give you a special pill. It'll help you sleep and settle your stomach at the same time, alright?"

Zoro nodded again. So grateful. Luffy had chosen the best doctor in the world. "Thank you, Chopper."

"Hey Chopper," They were shifted towards the doorway again as Chopper turned at the sound of the cook's voice. Sanji stood with a silver tray and a couple mugs. "Got you that milk."

"Sanji, thank you, that's perfect."

"Get out." Zoro shuddered.

"Take it easy, I'm leaving."

"Get out!" Zoro shouted. He was near hysterics. He knew that he probably looked foolish, knew he was scaring the shit out of Chopper, knew he was giving the cook plenty more opportunities to make his life a living hell, but he just didn't care. "Get out, get out! This is all your damn fault!" Zoro roared, in one last ditch effort to have Sanji's face disappear out the door that it'd come in from. His head pulsed, felt like it was ripping apart, and Zoro clutched on to it, sucking in hard breaths. "Shit, _shit_!"

Zoro cursed, and everything turned noiseless, like a bad drama sequence. There was a beating in his ears, and he didn't know if it was his racing heart or pounding head that was the drummer.

He heard Chopper saying something and the door slammed shut a moment later. Zoro couldn't even enjoy it. It felt like the door wasn't even there to begin with. It was transparent and open, just like the swordsman felt. Not bolted and solid like it should have been, like it really _was_.

The cold rim of a cup was pressing against his lips then, something warm washing over his tongue. The rich and unfamiliar taste almost made him gag, but it helped him to focus again. Zoro felt Chopper moving him, and his body being pulled to stretch along the medical bed. Something cold was against his forehead, he could feel it. Something else, wetter, was dabbing against his face. Zoro leaned into it. The small sensations of the touches helping him refocus further.

"Zoro, why don't you rest in here tonight." Chopper suggested gently by his side. Zoro's eyes turned to towards the little doctor. They were red rimmed and puffy and maybe a little angry and demonic. But Chopper could see the sadness nestled in them. Their dark green depths looking stung and abandoned. Chopper, still in his Man Beast form, smoothed a padded palm over Zoro's short hair. "You'll feel better after you sleep. Maybe if you can find a distraction, you won't get so worked up. You'll be able to sleep peacefully again. We'll talk more about it later, okay?"

_A distraction? _Zoro thought, drained. What kind of distraction would even help? He'd never felt so mortified in all his life. Zoro drank more of the warm milk with Chopper's assistance. He swallowed the pills that Chopper slid between his teeth without complaint.

It only took a moment for the dizziness to kick in, and he was unconscious within seconds. The only thing Zoro saw for the rest of the night was an inky blackness, and for some reason he hated it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 box Kleenex

13 staring eyes

1 handful of Grief

4 haunting nightmares

1 1/3 tsp. salt

1 cup water

Throw in a pinch of misunderstandings.

Toss lightly.

This is a cook's recipe for: Tears

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

* * *

**T-B-C…**

* * *

More Notes: I think I'm sorry for the rushed and choppy feel of this chapter. It was meant to be a little vague, but I'm not sure if it was too much. –shrugs- I hope it'll set up the stage a little nicer for future chapters, in any case. And, sorry Sanji fans, this chapter was mainly for Zoro. The spotlight will keep going back and forth though, so have no fear.

Oh, hey, here's something fun I came across. It's a fancy little One Piece site: (just take out the spaces in the URL)

**h ttp:/www. t he grand line .co m / thousa nd sunny . ht m l**

Also,

ACR now has Fanart! -gushes-

Thank you Verunder! It's amazing~ (Follow the link below to check it out, after removing the spaces)

**h ttp:/veira-girl. deviantart. com/ gallery/ 25859249#/ d2y85e **

**Reviewers:**

Since I thought I could keep up with replying back, but obviously I'm incapable of such a feeble task, I just want to Thank You for all your kind words/reviews/replies/wishes/alerts/ and faves. I lost track of who I gave a reply back to and to who I didn't, so if I didn't respond back to your review, I'm sorry. It got lost in the abyss of my to-do list, but that doesn't mean that I didn't appreciate it immensely.

So, to reviewers that didn't have accounts to reply to, that I haven't replied to, and to those that I did, THANK YOU! There, now I hope we're even enough.


	5. C4: Who Believes In A Best Part

**Beware the multitude of author's notes.**

Uh oh, it's been quite while, huh? **Sorry!** My life was a roller coaster for a bit there, but I'm slowly getting some glimpses of hope back.

_**IMPORTANT! READ: **_So, this story has basically gone through some major revisions. Like… the **title****changing! **(gasp) This was due to another idea that I just didn't know how to add at first, and then I sort of figured out what I wanted to do. I hope this improves the quality of the fic instead of takes away from it. (grins)

Also I **re-edited and re-uploaded each of the chapters**. So **ALL chapters have been edited/changed** **a** little/**lot** here and there. Just to improve the flow and over all voice, and because I realized that I'd made the story out to sound like something that it wasn't ever meant to be. **Chapter zero and chapter one have been revamped** quite a bit, so it hopefully flows a little better and introduces the story a little better too.

Thank you to **mimiren4045** (hearts) for the comments on chapter 1, I've tried to rework that scene especially. I hope it's not as confusing now. It was because I wrote that one in different pieces, so the flow was probably lost in the abyss. (I don't know if I replied to your review or not.) But I love receiving constructive criticism, so thank you sweetie. (Mimi told me how the voice and actions weren't flowing well at all during the fight scene where Zoro shoves Sanji, and I'm sorry for confusing the hell out of my readers! *sob* I think I fixed it though). *bows*

Chapter 2's crazy ooc-ness has been looked over. It's still really long…. I apologize.

I was also informed of some **mistakes in** **Chapter 3** by a lovely reviewer. Thank you **Saminagg**! (hearts) I've been told that Chopper does _not_ need a rumble ball to change into his more basic forms, so that's where the edit is in there, plus the beginning being tacked on, and some detail/dialogue stuffs through the middle. (face+palm). Spelling and grammar mistakes have also been searched through, even though there are probably still tons more out there. (sweat-drop).

Whoo... That is all~!

**To All Reviewers! You are always **_**always**_** appreciated**. You are all so very thoughtful, I could cry. I'm so very grateful to have readers like you guys. **(huggs)** (I hope I got the opportunity to reply to most, if not all, of you)!

Finally, please enjoy the new chapter~ (yeah, it's probably unbearably long like all the ones before. I'm sorry. I should split them, I _know_. But you all keep saying you like them long. So… heh, your feedback will help with the lengths too. Just tell me if it becomes too much!)

_**Warnings:**_ Strong language!, as always. Sarcasm. And maybe a dash of angst. (if that needs a warning).

* * *

**A Cook's Recipe For:**

C4: Who Believes In A Best Part

* * *

Chapter Song: "I'm Not Leaving": Uncle Kracker

* * *

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Chapter dedicated to **VivaciousRingo**. (hearts) Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

you take a small part of me

and hold it like you mean it.

mold it and shape it into pieces

only you can shatter.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

* * *

You know those times when you see someone crying, and you think to yourself that they never should?

Yeah.

This was one of those times…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Begin with:

4 ½ brushed knuckles

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was weird. It was absolutely fucking weird. And Sanji had seen some pretty bizarre shit throughout his short life. But this one took the cake.

Zoro was crying.

Zoro was _crying._

_**Zoro**_ was _**crying**__._

Sanji grabbed a stick of raw cinnamon out of one of the cupboards and stuck it between his teeth, letting the spice set his mouth ablaze. Anything to clear his head. Because Sanji was now completely out of cigarettes, and utterly confused. Confused to the point of mental exhaustion.

The cook took a seat on the counter near the sink, sitting in the pitch black darkness of his galley in a stony silence. He laced his fingers together, perched his elbows onto his knees, and leaned his head against his hands. His thoughts began to bristle. He was supposed to be on watch duty right now. Slash that. He was supposed to be in bed right now. Chopper was supposed to be on watch duty for the second shift, but the little reindeer was currently incapable of fulfilling that duty.

Because their doctor was too busy being a damn doctor.

Sanji grunted against his folded palms, he knew he should just go continue to be on look-out until Chopper got there. After all, the stuff going on in the other room was none of his business anyways, each of their doctor visits were labeled "private". But, it _was_ his business at the same time. Something was wrong with one of his Nakama and Sanji wanted to be responsible by being there to assist, in any way he might be able to.

_Even though it was the Marimo._

It was part of his job to protect the people on this ship.

_Even though it was the damn, green-headed, shit-for-brains, Marimo!_

And since Sanji had seen. Since now he knew that the swordsman wasn't alright, he felt like he had to do something.

Damn his conscience.

Sanji tugged at his hair, fisting through the golden locks until it hurt. The pain was a nice sedative. It helped him relax as his scalp tingled from the abuse. He focused his attention on his hurt foot. It felt numb, and he twisted it a little, moving muscle that wasn't supposed to be moving until he could feel a sharp, shooting pain there too. A mind-numbing pain from head to foot.

Stupid swordsman. Sanji didn't remember the last time he'd seen the Moss Head looking so… miserable. And to think he had actually had a pretty good day. Sanji sighed out loud until it became a groan that he had to smother with his hand. He breathed out, wishing he had a cigarette to take the edge off. But he didn't.

Dim light was still filtering across the floorboards from Chopper's office, signaling that there were still people inside, but they didn't make a sound. Sanji wanted them to make sounds. Loud, laughing sounds.

The haunting silence laughed back at him instead.

Sanji listened to the quiet. It tickled his ears and nibbled at the back of his mind in little overwhelming waves. He couldn't get Zoro's agonized face out of his mind. He'd never seen the swordsman break down like that. He didn't even know that the swordsman had the mental capacity to have a breakdown. Sanji frowned. Wondered what had brought it on. Zoro had seemed a little out of it earlier. Sanji wasn't even sure if they'd exchanged more than a few words. The cook had assumed that they were both still pissed off at each other over their little scuffle the day before.

The truth was that Sanji had been too preoccupied sulking over his found recipe cards and lost-forever-and-all-eternity last few cigarettes to even think about the stupid swordsman. They'd both just stayed away from each other. And Sanji was grateful for the small moments of peace, where he could brood alone, in silence. He didn't want Zoro to tease him about it anymore.

Sanji spent most of the day with Usopp and Chopper and Franky and Luffy and his beautiful ladies that had wandered in and out of his galley.

The swordsman hadn't even crossed his path, except for a few hours ago at dinner, where Zoro had actually complimented Sanji's cooking. The cook's lingering bitter feelings began receding then. And when Zoro had left the kitchen, the bitterness had gone with him, caught by the wind. Sanji didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about the swordsman. The way Zoro had looked when he stumbled out the door made his breath catch.

And now... after seeing Zoro in there with Chopper. Crying. Actually crying. Not crocodile tears, either. These tears were real, honest, sorrowful tears. The kind that needed to drain, and drain they had. Sanji didn't know which was worse, the fact that he didn't know what to do, or the fact that even if he did know what to do, Zoro probably wouldn't let the cook do anything for him.

The more Sanji thought about it, the more he felt like he should attempt to fix it. Whatever the "it" was.

"Hey, Sanji, are you still out here?" Chopper's door clicked softly when it opened and Sanji found his eyes darting, like famished moths, towards the small sliver of light that escaped. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Over here."

"Can I get your help moving Zoro around. I've just got to bandage something."

"He sleepin'?" Sanji swallowed, he'd already stood up anyways. He felt strange for not hesitating more when Chopper asked him to assist with the swordsman. The man had, after all, just yelled at Sanji to get the hell out of his sight.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's out cold."

Sanji didn't know if the term that Chopper used was the most appropriate. "Out cold" made it seem like the swordsman's unconsciousness was a bad thing. He bit his lip as he quickly hobbled after Chopper into the medical bay.

The light inside the small room made Sanji squint even though it was so dim, and when his eyes finally started to adjust all he wanted to do was shut them again. Zoro was lying stretched out along the cot, fast asleep. The sight of a lazing Zoro was familiar enough to the chef, but what caught his attention was the raw looking appearance of the other. Zoro looked strange. Vulnerable.

There were black circles under Zoro's eyes. The kind that meant sleepless nights and days. The kind that brought back restless memories of Sanji's own past. When he was stranded on that God-forsaken rock, jutting up in the middle of the ocean. Black circles had formed under Sanji's eyes then too, from the sleepless nights he had while watching for ships, waiting for salvation to come drifting in from the horizon. He remembered his skeletal reflection staring back at him from puddles of rain water that had gathered against craggy granite. He remembered looking so incredibly weak.

Those times were the blackest days of Sanji's memories. They still haunted him from time to time.

Suddenly he felt stupid for letting the unfortunate events of the last few days drive him so crazy. Compared to back then, this "bad luck", these small aches and pains, were just tiny stones of gravel along the path, they were nothing compared to that gigantic mountain that had kept him stranded.

Nothing compared to the sensations of starvation he had experienced.

Sanji shook his head to derail the thoughts. Tender memories that were still just as haunting as the day they were born were creeping along the borders of his mind.

Those memories still hurt him. Not often, but when he thought about them, or _dreamed_ about them, they hurt, because the experience had hurt.

The cook swallowed, wetting his sandpaper throat, as the realization dawned on him; Zoro had been hurt, too. Zoro's pain was just as real as Sanji's pain.

Sanji stared back at the dark circles marring Zoro's tan flesh. The strained knit of his sharp eyebrows. The deep frown lines painted along the swordsman's forehead. Studied how unsettled his sleep seemed now.

Zoro was having trouble sleeping, and Sanji, acting like a child, was making life even tougher for the swordsman. The little things that Sanji had learned these past few days about the events of Zoro's childhood didn't sound like terribly ecstatic experiences either. Much like his own past, or much like anyone's past on this ship, Zoro had scars that ran deep, even beneath his already scarred skin.

The swordsman fit right in with the crew of misfits that Luffy was so keen to keep picking up.

There was another dimension to the swordsman that Sanji had been shed light to.

"Sanji."

But what was wrong with the sword-freak now? He'd never seemed this bothered by anything before. Why now? What changed? It couldn't have been all Sanji's fault, because the swordsman had haunting dreams the night before Sanji had even said anything at all.

Sanji stilled, his eyes moving across Zoro's troubled face. His nose was red, along with the red and black circles around his eyes. His mouth was a slanted sort of snarling frown instead of a peaceful line. It left an unsettling feeling in Sanji's gut.

Sanji had no right to see the swordsman this way. So crumpled. So bent.

Zoro should never even be allowed to look this way.

"Sanji." Chopper's urgent hushed hiss caused the cook's head to snap up, his attention turning from his ailing crew mate towards the little doctor.

"Chopper, what's… what's wrong with him?"

Chopper let out a sad sigh, "For now, the biggest problem is that he's exhausted. He told me he hasn't been sleeping well."

Sanji nodded. Those nightmares. He knew. But was there something else?

"Here, can you just lift up his head a little? I just need to wrap the bandages around it."

"Bandages?"

"I'll explain it later, to everyone at once."

Sanji nodded as Chopper professionally dismissed the subject, and didn't say another word. He soundlessly slipped a hand beneath Zoro's neck, being almost too careful in his touch, but held the other's head steady as Chopper worked on him. The cook's long fingers nestled themselves securely in Zoro's soft green hair.

Sanji found his thoughts swirling, and he couldn't keep them straight. He found himself absently running his thumb along the back of Zoro's neck where his hair tapered off into skin. What was Zoro dreaming about at night? What was going on in that marimo-colored head of his? Sanji felt the swordsman shiver in his hold and he held his breath, afraid the other man would wake up, and be reduced to facing another undesirable situation. He shouldn't be here with Zoro. Zoro didn't _want _Sanji here. Sanji was causing him even more pain. Doing _this _to him…

_Shit. Is this really my fault? _Sanji asked himself. Ugly thoughts were sinking deadly claws into his heart and making it ache.

He was suddenly too hot. The room felt too stuffy.

Zoro didn't open his eyes, and the shaking stopped. Probably just the reaction of his muscles relaxing in his sleep. Sanji suddenly felt Chopper's hoof prodding his forearm.

The cook jumped, pulled away from his internal musings, heart racing.

"Okay, all done. Thank you, Sanji."

Sanji nodded numbly, and set the swordsman's head against the pillow, slowly, unaware of his gentleness, but all too aware of the fact that he was thinking that Zoro might suddenly shatter.

Treating Zoro as if he were weak was unforgivable, Sanji knew, and if Zoro were awake to witness this, the swordsman's pride would surely be threatened. He'd probably kill Sanji for treating him like glass.

"Come on, let's let him rest."

"Yeah, yeah sure. He probably needs it." Sanji murmured. He found he had to work to pry his eyes away from the swordsman's prone form.

Sanji watched Chopper slither out of a crack in the door, tip-toeing on his hooves, and began following on his crutches. The little reindeer held the door open to make it easier for Sanji to exit when Chopper gave a sudden tiny gasp. They both froze.

"Cook." Sanji was two hops away from freedom when the gravelly rumble tore out of Zoro's throat. Sanji glanced back at the bleary eyed man, even though his mind was screaming at him to just keep moving. It was something soft in Zoro's voice that kept Sanji from running. He found Zoro's gaze pinned just over his shoulder, gazing at something that wasn't Sanji, at something that was probably nothing.

Sanji turned a little, still in arms length of the bed. Ready to assist if Zoro should need anything. Half of him wanted to bolt, his mind kept chanting that leaving Zoro alone would be best. A heavy sense of burden was crouching on his shoulders, and he felt like a thorn in the swordsman's side.

He tried to catch Zoro's gaze though, the other irrational half of his mind telling him that he had to do something to fix the festering.

Their eyes finally met when Zoro shifted, and half-lidded steel pierced open sky blue. Sanji found himself pinned with that firm gaze. Zoro's lips moved before either of them could blink. "Mmh. Don' tell..." Zoro rumbled again; his voice cracking and unstable.

The cook stayed silent, not knowing exactly what he could say. Not knowing exactly where to begin. He saw Zoro reach up, fingers brushing the white bandages wrapped around his head. Sanji moved without thinking, to brush Zoro's hand away from Chopper's hard work, not wanting the swordsman to tear off the wrap so soon, as Sanji knew he'd probably try to do. Keeping any restraint on Zoro took a lot of effort normally, and since the swordsman was a bit out-of-sync now it would probably be doubly hard.

But Sanji's hand froze in midair as he watched Zoro's fingertips simply brushing along the wrap Chopper had put on his head. The swordsman let out one long breath, and then averted his eyes towards the doorway. Sanji didn't know if he was waiting for someone else to come through it, maybe preferably someone who wasn't Sanji, bringer of Zoro's misery lately, but no one did come through as Sanji knew no one would. The only one there was the little doctor, standing rigidly in the entranceway. Probably shocked at how Zoro could be awake after the drugs that he'd most likely been pumped with.

The awkward averted gazes lasted maybe half a minute before Sanji decided that maybe Zoro wanted Sanji to walk _out_ the door, instead of waiting for another to come _in_ it. He straightened his crutches quickly, and picked his injured foot up off the ground, readying to retreat, when something stopped him.

And Sanji didn't move another muscle, because Zoro had gripped his hand then, but it wasn't strong or steady. Instead, the grip was cold and fragile, until it shuddered, and became a gentle hold that didn't feel quite right having Zoro touching him like that. The swordsman wasn't looking at the blonde anymore.

"I won't say anything." Sanji finally muttered, his voice managing to get past the tightness that was suddenly constricting his throat. He figured that the simple vow was what Zoro needed to hear.

Zoro let his hand linger on the cook's knuckles a moment longer before dropping off completely.

Sanji watched with a soft gaze as Zoro nodded once, then sunk back into bed, falling once more into a lighter-than-should-be slumber. He exited quickly with Chopper's urging and assistance, stealing into the blackness of the kitchen.

That went better than Sanji thought it would have. Sanji guessed he should be thankful that there was no violence after the encounter. His eyes drifted back towards the closed doorway without him realizing it. His fingers were still tingling from where Zoro held on with that weird desperate grip. It felt almost like a tense dream.

Sanji shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Sanji, you should be resting too." Chopper's small voice washed over him.

The cook nodded. He didn't answer back, didn't dare to. The more he thought about it, the more the entire situation felt like a dream, and so he headed to his bedroom silently, thoughts racing through his head. He just wanted to sleep and have the world flip itself back over when he woke up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 tingling hand

2 whispers

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sanji was back on the Baratie, but the ship was entirely empty. He walked through each empty room, finding no one and finally sat in a lone chair in the kitchen. He lit five cigarettes at once and tilted back so the chair was balancing precariously on its' two hind legs. He sat there, smoking into the emptiness. Becoming a chimney.

"_Sanji… help me…"_

The cook perked his ears, barely hearing the whisper.

He peered into the darkness of his old kitchen, squinted through the smoke that was breathing out of his mouth like breath. There was someone there. It was a tall, burly figure. They looked familiar and Sanji somewhat relaxed.

"Zeff?" Sanji questioned, as the smoke grew thicker, his breath a darker grey. "Old Geezer?"

The figure started shrinking. The silhouette thinning out.

Sanji stood up. His chair tipped over but it didn't make a sound when it hit the ground. The only sound was suddenly raspy breathing. The figure of Zeff turned even skinnier and the smoke became darker, until it was black and thick.

"_Help me."_

"Old man!" The figure crumbled onto hands and knees and Sanji rushed forward, reaching out.

The arm he touched felt like bone under his hand. Sanji gasped. The black smoke began thinning out then. The cigarettes fell away from Sanji's lips one by one. They turned into tiny flames when they hit the ground. Sanji could see now, he could just make out features in the dark. "Chef Zef…Ze…Zoro!"

The kneeling figure on the kitchen floor wasn't Old Man Zeff. It was Moss Head Zoro.

Zoro was sitting there, shrinking down, becoming bone, dying. _"Sanji… help me."_

And then the Zoro skeleton reached out, and traced a long bony finger down Sanji's throat, stopping right where his heart should be.

Oh, God…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1 weird dream

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sanji's eyes snapped open immediately. He was met with a comforting clear blackness. There was no smoke. He felt his chest and immediately felt relief when he didn't feel any bony appendages lingering there. It was all just a dream. A weird one, but a dream all the same. Zoro had asked him for help. Of course _that_ had to be a dream.

He breathed out a quiet breath. The odd visions began fading into simple cut up pieces in his memory. The dream didn't make a whole lot of sense to him in the first place, but it was startling enough that he still felt his heart beating swiftly beneath his hand.

It had been four in the morning before Sanji finally fell into a restless slumber of his own. And now he was awake and it was still, strangely, quiet. He dug into his pocket, took out a lighter and flicked his thumb against the switch four times before getting it to light successfully. The flame produced a small circular glow in front of him and he reached for his pocket watch to check the time. He realized with a jolt that he'd only been asleep for a little over an hour. Sanji groaned, rubbed his face, and realized then that he was shaking.

Withdrawl. Sonova…

He kicked off his covers with his good foot, and lay in his hammock staring up at the ceiling and feeling a little sick to his stomach. His thoughts immediately turned from craving a cigarette to the events of what went on last night, and of what had happened in his dream. His sleepy mind was piecing together bits from his dream and reality and it was a little bit challenging to decipher between the truthful bits and the fabrications.

What he'd seen last night, with Zoro in the infirmary, seemed a little too unreal for his tastes.

There was one thing that Sanji was sure of. Last night… was the end of joking around.

Life was a game. And Sanji was suddenly so tired of playing it that he was going to do something drastic.

He was going to help the swordsman.

Zoro had asked for it, hadn't he? In Sanji's dream, after all.

_Help me._

That whisper was enough to send a shiver throughout the Cook's entire being.

His shaking intensified.

Now, Sanji did not speak Neanderthal.

Sanji did not speak Swordsmanese.

He didn't speak in Code, or Woman, either.

He spoke a plain fucking language, plus swear words. That was his vocabulary. So excuse the hell out of him if he couldn't speak the same language as a damn Moss-Ball.

He never asked Zoro to go off the deep end. He never wanted Zoro to look at him with fierce eyes that frightened the piss out of children. Sanji gnawed at his lip. He never wanted to see Zoro so hurt and maybe a little pathetic looking. He never wanted Zoro to go crazy because of something he did, or something he said. But the more Sanji thought about it, the more he thought that it really was _all his fault._

Damn it.

Zoro seemed to think so too.

The stupid Marimo couldn't even look at him for longer than two seconds, after all.

Sanji had a plan though, he usually did. He was cunning and naïve and confident. Those were his good traits. But he was also self-sacrificing, prideful, lusting, and stubborn.

Combined together, Sanji was a bottled up explosion that could detonate at any second. And Zoro or whoever else was in the way when that happened, well, it was nice knowing 'em.

Sanji was going to do something that no other pirate cook had done before. That maybe no other creature had ever done before. Of this, he was fairly sure. He was going to go to Zoro, like a civilized human being, find out what was ailing the sweaty green lettuce head, and then he was going to kick it out of him. Then Zoro would be all better. Not better than _before_ this mess all started. Sanji wasn't a miracle worker, after all. But he'd make sure the Marimo wasn't a butt sore lunatic by the time he was done with him.

Sanji also decided that he would shove some food down Zoro's throat around breakfast time, since the idiot wouldn't eat a decent portion of food on his own.

He pressed himself out of bed at 5:30. His eyes burned from being forced to stay open after so little down-time, but Sanji didn't have time to fool around.

Thoughts of the swordsman wouldn't leave Sanji alone.

He made his way out of the bedroom, as quietly as he possibly could and then rounded the corner towards the washroom.

The images from his dream kept coming back in shifts to mock him. He could almost feel the cold slimy bone beneath his palm and the saggy flesh, the skinny body. It was enough to make Sanji's stomach do flips. Sanji found himself sitting rigid on the edge of the toilet seat, running fingers up and down his arm, making sure that soft flesh was all that he felt. Not slimy, sticky, melting, muscle and bones. The thought made him feel sick inside.

He stood up and leaned against the wall, panting. Sanji found himself leaning over the toilet a second later, trying to expel anything and everything in his stomach. He found out that throwing up was a lot harder with a broken foot than he'd originally thought it'd be.

The knock on the door during one of his more violent gags didn't do anything to comfort him either.

"You okay in there?"

Thank God for small miracles. It was only Usopp.

"Been better," Sanji spat sarcastically around bile.

"Oh geez, Sanji?" Usopp pushed the door, that Sanji hadn't locked, open. "I was sure it was Zoro in here. He isn't sleepin' and I thought you had Watch or would be cooking by now… are you sick?"

Sanji cringed at the rambling, "What's it look like?" He muttered. His hands were shaking worse than when he had frost bite back in Drum Kingdom.

Usopp moved in, coming to bring an arm around the cook's thin waist. Sanji wouldn't allow him to normally, except that it was easier to balance this way. If the sniper started rubbing his back or some shit like that, then there'd be problems. But the support was nice. The nimble leathery feel of the other boy's hands provided the cook with a certain warmth. "Are you okay? You're shaking."

"It's withdrawal. I'm out of cigarettes." Sanji groaned, "Shit, I'm so sick to my stomach, it hurts."

"I'm sorry, man. You think Chopper has something that could help?"

"Let's hope so."

"When did you run out?"

"Been low all week. My rotten luck tossed the rest in the ocean sometime around yesterday."

Usopp moved to flush the toilet for the shaking cook, he let Sanji lean against his side and grip his pants. When the blonde nearly yanked the sniper's pants down, Usopp gently pried Sanji's hands off and rubbed the cold, clammy, palms with his own.

Sanji's face flushed even more.

"Usopp, can people melt?"

Usopp cocked an eyebrow, "Like, can they catch on fire?"

"No, like, melt. Their flesh and bones?"

"You really aren't feeling well, huh?" Usopp added, sympathetically. "Do you feel like you're melting?"

Sanji swallowed, and fought the urge to deck Usopp. He didn't have the patience to deal with this right now. "I'm not talking about myself, Crap Sniper." He wasn't going crazy, dammit.

Usopp made a face that Sanji couldn't see, he rubbed the blonde's hands a little faster, massaging circles into hard knuckles with his thumbs. "I guess it's possible, probably not like a candle or anything, unless they were made of wax. Or maybe Luffy could, since he's like rubber… do you think he'd let me try it?" The sudden spark of snug curiosity in the marksman's voice was enough to make Sanji shrug him off.

"Shit Sniper." He growled loosely.

"Did you have a bad dream or something?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. How'd you guess?"

Usopp shrugged, "Heard they've been going around lately."

The unease in Usopp's voice made Sanji a little curious, but it wasn't enough to make him want to ask. He let out a long yawn.

"Do you wanna go back to bed?"

"Nope. I'm good. I'll just drink lots of tea, and cooking will take the edge off."

"If you're absolutely sure," Usopp pursed his lips, "hey, you mind if I work on something in the kitchen?"

Sanji narrowed his gaze at the long nosed man. "You could work on it in your shitty workshop."

"I could, yeah." He wheedled.

"Whatever. If you make any noise, you're out."

"I'll be quiet as a mouse."

"Tch. I'd like to see you try." Sanji snorted, he let Usopp hold the door for him. "You're a good guy, Usopp." Sanji muttered, as he passed him on their way to the galley. He didn't miss the long squeak or the blush that was suddenly painting the younger man's cheeks at the affectionate comment. Heh. Crap-sniper.

Usopp made good on his promise, and by the time Sanji had got everything out for prep and served tea to the marksman and himself, he'd forgot Usopp was even there. He made sure to be extra quiet while cooking, wary of Zoro still resting in the small infirmary at the end of the hall.

Chopper had come back down from watch, and was alternately doting back and forth between resting his head on the table next to the long nosed man, and peeking inside the infirmary door. Whenever he would walk passed, Sanji would unknowingly give him soaking looks, the kind that leeched for fresh information after being left in the dark for too long. If Chopper noticed, he didn't offer anything to the chef, and Sanji thought it would be too out of character to ask, because he usually wouldn't, and the sniper was seated at the table, tinkering, and not knowing that Zoro was in the room down the hall. Or at least Sanji thought he didn't know. He hadn't asked Chopper what he kept checking on. Of course, Usopp was absorbed in his work, and Sanji had just asked Chopper for something for his withdrawl symptoms.

Sanji wondered if anyone knew. Aside from the doctor and himself, of course. Well, it was still early, he supposed. Chopper did stop to hand Sanji a pack of gum as a prescription, and discreetly asked Sanji if they could eat their meals outside today in attempts to give you-know-who more peace and quiet to sleep. Sanji readily agreed.

Sanji waited until the sun had dried most of the wet dew from the grass before asking Usopp to help him move breakfast outside and onto the lawn. Thankfully, it was a warm morning.

"Should I ring the bell?" Usopp asked, when Sanji was directing him on how to arrange the plates.

"No, but you can go gather everyone who isn't already up here."

"But, wouldn't the bell be easier?"

"Are your legs broken?" Sanji snapped, annoyed. He caught Usopp eyeing his hurt leg with a drawn face and felt guilty for being so snippy. But the fucking bell would wake Zoro up, and Chopper said the swordsman should get as much rest as he could. Sanji screwed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Usopp. My head just hurts, okay?"

Usopp's expression softened into one that didn't look so kicked-puppyish. "Should have figured. I'll go round everybody up!"

"Ladies first, Shit Sniper!" Sanji called after the boy as he darted away.

When the crew had gathered outside around the grass yard, Usopp came back panting. "I can't find Zoro anywhere." It was then that Chopper spoke up saying that he had something important to tell them.

Sanji watched the crew's faces when Chopper told them that Zoro was in bed and he had to stay there for a while to get some rest. The shocked and concerned expressions came at once. Sanji watched all this with a distanced gaze. He was trying his hardest to act unconcerned, but he couldn't help but scold himself quietly every time his eyes would wander, against his will, towards the general direction of the infirmary. If anyone asked, he could pass it off as just simply thinking about what to make for lunch, since the infirmary was thankfully just a doorway past his kitchen.

Sanji's attention only returned in full when Chopper had told them that Zoro had a mild concussion.

Chopper had diagnosed the swordsman with it early that morning, and now Zoro was forced to stay in bed until further notice.

After hearing his doctor's diagnosis, Luffy took to staring at Chopper as if a third antler was protruding from the little reindeer's forehead. Chopper met his captain's gaze with an innocent blink. "W-what?"

"What's a con-cush-ion?" Luffy demanded, one eyebrow cocked in confusion and lips pulled into a half-frown around a stack of waffles.

Usopp faltered, "You dork." The marksman gaped at his captain. "A concussion is when someone has a huge couch dropped on them. They are then transported into the Cushion World beneath the couch springs!"

Luffy gaped at Usopp starry-eyed, "Wow! So Coool!"

A tiny noise of surprise came from the littlest reindeer who had been interrupted. "Really, Usopp?_! Awesome!_"

Sanji slammed a palm into his forehead. "Seriously, Chopper?_!_" He wailed. Maybe, just maybe, if he was fortunate enough, someone would drop a couch on him. Then he could spend all his future days gallivanting in Cushion World.

He gave the sharp-shooter and his two captivated audience members a sour look. Why was he so cursed?

"That's not what a concussion is, you idiots!"

All three blinked over at Sanji, as if he were the crazy one. The blonde just gave them a half-lidded stare. "Tell them what a concussion is, Chopper…"

The doctor blinked, and then as if a switch was flipped, put a hoof to his chin. "Oh, well, actually Usopp wasn't too far off."

Sanji almost fell over at the triumphant cackle that left the long-nosed liar's lips.

"A concussion is just a name for a head injury. They can be bad and cause lots of trauma." Chopper paused here, seeing fear on his friend's faces. "But, Zoro's isn't that bad. He'll just have a nasty headache for a little while. And a bump, some bruising. He just must've knocked himself on the head somehow."

Usopp's palms met the ground with a soggy slap. "When he fell!"

Chopper turned to face him, alarmed. "Zoro fell?"

"Yeah, the other day when… h-he…" Usopp trailed, his eyes searching for Sanji. The cook was staring blankly past him towards the ocean. He had a sick look on his face. "Um…"

"It's fine Usopp. It's not like it's a big secret or anything. Shit, stupid ass Moss Head should've said something sooner." Sanji suddenly growled.

"What happened?"

"The day I slept in, Zoro was coming downstairs the same time I was going up. We ran into each other. And we fell. Zoro caught me, and that ass banged his head against the dresser." Sanji sighed.

"Thought I heard a crash," Franky mumbled. He took another swig of the Cola in front of him.

Chopper hummed thoughtfully. "He should have came and got it checked out." The little reindeer sighed, "but, we're lucky. It's not bad. He'll just have a bad headache for a couple days." Chopper paused here, "The other issue is a little more serious."

"What other issue?" Luffy looked up, concerned, thoughtful. Food fell from his lips.

Sanji swallowed thickly. Here Chopper was, saying Marimo had issues. He tried to ignore the unease welling up in his gut and focused instead on the animalistic eating habits of his captain. He gave Luffy an unamused look, "Chopper eats better than you, and he's half animal." He growled.

"Shhhhh…" Luffy had the gall to shush him. He ended up spraying food from his lips. Sanji shut his eyes, and listened as the doctor cleared his throat.

"Zoro told me he hasn't been sleeping very well."

Luffy resumed shoveling in his half-chewed breakfast. "Zowo can'b sweep?"

Sanji's shoulders stiffened at the turn in conversation.

"Right. I gave him some sleeping pills, and that will help a little, but with his headache, I can't give him anything nearly strong enough. His brain is going to try and heal the bruising he got from his concussion."

"Never thought I'd hear of a day when Zoro was having sleeping problems." Nami laughed softly. Luffy and Usopp laughed right along with her, more boisterously.

Franky let out a groan that he couldn't quite stifle when Robin's hands pressed in a more deliberate way into his neck. The half-human-cyborg had given up trying to work out a few sore kinks when she took over, but the new conversation had her hands distracted. Sanji looked away silently, eyes flickering back towards Robin's face, instead of her sprouted hands that were touching the shitty cyborg. "Could it be those nightmares?" Robin asked instead.

"You knew?" Chopper asked. Sanji also looked surprised, although he shouldn't have been. Of course his sweet Robin-chwan would know about something so obvious!

"Robin-chwan is so smart and observant and beautiful!" He gushed softly.

Franky rolled his eyes at the cook. "So, sword-bro is having nightmares, huh?" Franky asked.

"It seems so. Although, he hasn't told me what they were about. Truthfully I don't know how to help him with it. I don't know much about dreams in general, or how to control them." Chopper looked sad, at a loss of what to do.

"But dreams can't hurt you." Luffy spoke up, his arms were crossed now, and the sticky jam had been wiped from his chin and onto his t-shirt.

"Can they?" Sanji found himself mumbling before the thought had even registered in his mind.

"Huh?" Luffy hummed, eyes finding his cook. Sanji met the rubber boy's gaze and then looked away.

"What is it, Sanji? Do you have something on your mind?" Chopper asked.

Sanji plucked at the grass with his fingers, "Uh, do I need to make him special meals or anything?"

Chopper shook his head lightly, "No, he should be alright to eat with the rest of us, although he might not have much of an appetite. Head injuries usually make you feel kind of nauseated."

"Nauseated means sick, Luffy." Sanji barked, before the rubber man could get the question out. The happy laugh and the _"Ah-ha" _that followed didn't surprise the cook in the least. His eyes traveled downwards to the empty breakfast dishes.

"Is there anything else?" Chopper asked. Sanji felt the reindeer's eyes on him and he bit his lip.

"You okay, bro? You look like you've got something heavy on your mind." Franky asked from the cook's side, he nudged the blonde's knee lightly with his elbow.

Sanji flicked his eyes away from the general direction of the infirmary, not noticing when they'd first wandered there. "Well, what about his breathing?"

Everyone went quiet. Chopper turned fully to look at Sanji.

"Breathing?"

The cook shut his mouth, smacking together lips that were parched and dry. He shrunk under the gazes that were suddenly turned his way.

"What_ about_ his breathing, Sanji-kun?" Nami looked at him.

Sanji's heartbeat sped up at her inquiry, he could feel its' coarse beat whooshing through his ears, "Uh-he, ah, it's nothing, Nami-swan. It's just silly. I mean, there's no side effect to a busted head that could make it hard to do, is there?" He finished with a stutter. His palms were sweating.

"Has Zoro been having trouble breathing, Sanji?" Chopper asked seriously.

The cook swallowed, and blinked.

"No. No, he hasn't. I don't think."

"If he has, it's not going to help him any if you keep it a secret, Sanji. You know I can't help if I don't know about it, right?"

The cook breathed out heavily. The little doctor made so much sense it made Sanji sick just thinking about how childish he was being. "It was just once." Sanji mumbled after a moment.

"What happened?" Chopper asked again.

When Sanji didn't start to answer right away Chopper closed the distance between the cook and himself, then leaned forward to whisper into Sanji's ear. "You can tell me privately, if you think that would be best."

Sanji took the little doctor's words into consideration for a moment, and then he caught Luffy's gaze over Chopper's shoulder. The captain looked too serious for Sanji's liking, and that's when he knew that Luffy was worried. The stupid moss-head was worrying their captain. Sanji cracked, knew Luffy had a right to know, and then spilled it.

"Okay, okay. It might have even been my imagination, I don't know." Sanji said quietly, although he felt like he was screaming out Zoro's business to the world with how silent the six people surrounding him had become. Chopper leaned back, giving Sanji more room to speak. "I went to bring him a drink and found him sleeping. I was going to wake him up and that's when I noticed his breathing started getting shallow. Then it, it just stopped, I swear it did. Started up a few seconds later though, maybe not even a few seconds, maybe like one second. But... I noticed it. Or at least, I thought I did. I dunno."

"What does that mean, Reindeer-Gorilla?"

Chopper put a hoof to his chin, "It could mean a few things. If what Sanji said really happened, it might be nothing, especially if it's just happened once. Or..."

"Or what?"

"Well, we'll see. I don't think it's anything too serious from what Sanji described. I'll keep monitoring him and see if anything happens."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Blend together with:

Cold toes

1 cup of Chamomile Tea

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Breakfast ended with a pretty negative air. Everyone was especially quiet after the news and had tottered off to do their own things.

Sanji was left undisturbed for the better portion of a half hour, choosing to go back into his galley where he proceeded to knock back two glasses of delicately aged wine and five sticks of Chopper's nicotine-laced chewing gum. By this time, he'd already began the preparations for lunch. He cleaned the fish, chopped the vegetables, and started boiling the water for the pasta.

Every time he tried not to think about the Moss Head, that's where his thoughts ended up. And images of a starving, melting, desperate, and dying swordsman would come into his mind to tease him. He told himself again and again that Zoro was fine, and he was in Chopper's very capable hands, or hoofs. But the thoughts made him angry at himself for thinking them in the first place. This led him to mincing anything he could get his hands on.

He had his knife tip poised above the dried noodles, just about to add them into his wrath relief when the familiar creak of a doorway filled the galley quietly.

Chopper was outside, Sanji knew, so that was the most likely reason that he'd nearly given himself whip-lash by turning his attention fully towards the infirmary at the end of his kitchen. Sanji watched owlishly as Zoro lumbered out the door, looking more than a little pale and sickly. The cook looked on curiously, wondering if he should force the swordsman back to bed. Or maybe he'd come out to finally eat something.

"Yo." He greeted soundly.

Zoro didn't greet him back.

"Food will be done in about a half hour. I set aside some breakfast though, if you're hungry now." Sanji offered. More like 'awkwardly rambled'. Zoro didn't seem to be listening to him. He looked around with a lost sort of glaze in his eyes, and Sanji didn't want to admit it to himself, but he could see their raw, red-rimmed appearance from nearly across the room.

"Hey Moss-head, I'm talking to you."

Zoro turned to face him then, sort of, he was facing in Sanji's general direction, but it seemed like he couldn't keep a solid stare on anything. His gaze was pointed towards the deck's doorway and the intercom radio at the same time, which Sanji had thought was an impossible task, seeing as the two were sort of on different sides of the galley. The swordsman seemed a little off-balance, like his sea-legs hadn't yet been invented. It wasn't until Sanji saw the swordsman reach out to grab for the wall that he understood what was going on.

Zoro was dizzy. Disoriented. Sanji's heart thudded towards his throat. The stupid algae head could hurt himself worse if he passed out now.

"Hey, Swordsman, Chopper said you should really stay in bed."

Zoro fingered the wall, and then reached for his hip. Sanji watch his fingers crumple into a soft fist.

The cook opened his mouth to say something else when the swordsman beat him to it. "You know where Chopper is?" He molded the words between too-stiff teeth.

Sanji felt his pulse quicken. Something wasn't right.

"Marimo, maybe you should sit down before you fall down. You aren't lookin' too steady there."

"Don' need to siddown." Zoro slurred. It made Sanji wonder if the other man was drunk.

The cook tapped a spoon on the side of his counter and reached for his crutch. "I'll get Chopper, just sit." He pointed at the swordsman with one free hand and made a gesturing motion to the floor.

The swordsman stared oddly at him for a moment before seeming to realize something. Sanji saw the pale face turn a few shades closer to the man's hair color and then Zoro stumbled backwards. Sanji had a phrase on his tongue that he didn't get the opportunity to call out. The swordsman caught himself and flew back through the infirmary's door moments before Sanji heard the all-too-familiar and unpleasant sounds of someone being very, very ill.

The cook cringed, thought about going to see if the Marimo was alright, wondered if he should go and get Chopper first, and then acted on the first choice for reasons that he couldn't fathom. He pushed the office door open gently and watched Zoro throwing his guts away into the small trashcan. He'd missed the first time, Sanji noted quietly, seeing the mess of bile decorating the bed sheets and ground.

"I'll get you some water." Sanji said quietly.

Zoro gagged, the sound somewhere between a cough and a whine. "I think 'm poisoned…"

"Poisoned?"

"Stomach. It kills. Can't see straight."

Sanji pulled open a cabinet above Chopper's sink and found disposable cups there. He took one down and began filling it from the tap. The frown that he hadn't realized was on his lips deepened. "Ah, that's because of, well, Chopper said you got a concussion when you hit your head."

"A wha-?" Zoro breathed. His nose burned.

"Real genius, not telling him about it like you said you would." Sanji accused, he limped around, coming to a stand-still by the sick man's side.

"Cook, don' step…"

"I got it. No big deal."

"Shit…"

"Here, drink something." Sanji offered, "You've got a lot of air in your stomach. That's why it hurts so bad. I'll guarantee it."

Zoro cautiously took the little paper cup that the cook offered him. He took a sip of the water inside it and immediately gagged. He missed the trash can again, hitting the floor and his pants instead. His head whirled. "Fuck it…" He growled.

Sanji could see his struggle. He moved to set a hand on Zoro's back and helped to prop the basin beneath his chin. The blond could see the cold sweat that glistened against the back of Zoro's neck and along the sides of his cheeks.

He rubbed awkwardly up and down along Zoro's spine a few times. Feeling a violent tremble shuddering his body.

"Embarrassing…"

"I know, you'd think we were being punished for something." Sanji joked. He was trying hard to make the situation a little less awkward, but couldn't help but feel like he was failing completely. Zoro turned away a little more, so he was angled clumsily over himself. "Hey, it happens, no big deal. I got sick myself, just this morning."

But Zoro didn't seem to be listening anymore, too busy trying to shove Sanji away from him.

"Can do this m'self, Stupid Cook."

"Just trying to help you, Asshole. You can't even sit up straight."

"You like this…" Zoro muttered tiredly then. Sanji heard the thickness in the swordsman's voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"Like seeing me weak." Zoro accused.

"I never said you were weak, idiot. Don't start that now. "

"You don't have to say it." The words flowed out over his lips, and he glanced up to look at the cook's face, for some reason wanting to see the expression it held. The shallow light in the room made it hard for him to see.

Sanji tried to ignore the nonsense that Zoro was mumbling. He was obviously not all there. "Try and drink some more of that."

Zoro ignored him.

"Come on, I'll help you change before Chopper comes bursting in here."

Zoro shook his head wordlessly, and felt Sanji crouch beside him. He set the half full cup on the ground beside his knee.

"Are you… alright now?"

"No."

There was a pause where all either of them could hear was the soft _plink plop _sound of the water dripping from the tap.

"Zoro, come on. I'm trying here. Really, I am."

Zoro stilled then. Feeling ashamed. He felt the cook's hand on his back, noticed Sanji swaying a little to try and keep his balance from the awkward angle. But still the cook held the basin steady for him. Zoro gnawed at his lip, tasting the sick on it.

Zoro didn't look at the other man. He felt like a stupid fool. Sanji was just trying to help. He was sorry for what he'd said before. He apologized, and tried to make up for it, and still, after all that trying, Zoro kept turning a blind cheek. A childish, weak, maneuver for a swordsman. A pathetic, little, wannabe, excuse for a human being.

Roronoa Zoro finally realized something. He was in a battle, and he was losing. It was too hard to come to terms with it from the way his head was swirling. The bed was right in front of his face and it was blurry…

If he was going to have any chance of coming out on top now, he realized with a jolt that he needed help.

He stopped struggling, stopped fighting against the hands that were helping him now, and really _felt_ Sanji's hands against him. They were firm, and warm, and steady. Zoro needed steady. He needed the warmth, the _comfort_ they were offering.

"Are you finished?" Sanji was asking in his ear, and his voice didn't sound like it was mocking him. In fact, it sounded weary, maybe worried, and more than a little sad.

Zoro could only nod now. He felt his stomach settling a little more as each moment passed.

"See, you can trust me, Zoro. I don't like seeing you like this, and I don't think you're weak for it. You're sick and hurt, and you probably won't remember anything that's happening now, so we won't have to make excuses later." Sanji chuckled, a hollow laugh. "You'd be a fool to think that I don't care. I'd be a fool to tell you I don't care."

Sanji helped him back into bed carefully, after stripping the dirty sheets from it. Zoro seemed to be contemplating something while he got settled, there was a drained look on his face and Sanji only hoped he wouldn't be sick again.

"The wind calls me weak…" Zoro confided. He peeled off his soiled clothes, dropping them at Sanji's feet.

Sanji didn't know where the strange confession had come from, if he could call it that. Maybe Zoro _had_ officially lost it. "Okay… okay…" Sanji stalled, before yanking a clean blanket rather forcefully towards Zoro's chin, convinced the swordsman was delirious.

"I can never save her…" There was a frightened animalistic look in the swordsman's eyes that was pretty hard to ignore.

The drugs were definitely talking, but Sanji humored him anyways, "Save who?"

"She always dies. I can't help her. Can't bring her back. I'm so.. so pathetic."

"No. You aren't pathetic. It isn't your fault." Sanji said. They were false condolences. It clicked in his mind that Zoro was probably talking about his dead friend after he'd already said it. His eyes went soft. "You can't bring back the dead, Zoro. And you can't beat yourself up for what happened."

"If only I were stronger."

"You were a kid. Right? It's not your fault."

"You don't know…" Zoro grimaced.

"You're right. I don't know. So tell me. Tell me what the hell you could have done different. Tell me why you're acting like this. This isn't the Zoro I know."

The swordsman's hands buried themselves in the blanket at chest height. "Then you don't know me."

Sanji went quiet then. He couldn't deny it. Couldn't argue back. Maybe he _didn't_ know Zoro, and that made him a little sad. Maybe they were still only strangers in this makeshift family.

"Tell them to stop."

The cook's attention was brought back by the deadpan plea. "Tell who to stop?"

"Make them stop."

Sanji swallowed. He looked around, listened for anything that might be out of place, and came up empty. "Marimo. What are you talking about?"

"Make 'em stop, Cook."

"Zoro…"

A frightened look passed over Zoro's face then, it was enough to make Sanji bite his tongue. The cook cursed softly. Zoro met him with glassy eyes, staring at him hard. "Please. Sanji, please, I can't see her die again. I can't see her—lose…"

Sanji watched Zoro's eyes slide shut as his voice tapered. He finally understood that he was talking about the nightmares. They really got to him. Sanji felt sad for Zoro, there was nothing he could do to protect the swordsman in his sleep, except wake him up, and that wouldn't do him any good.

Sanji realized something then that he probably shouldn't have. Zoro had the ability to care, to feel, to love, to be human. To be imperfect.

And Sanji didn't know why, but seeing Zoro like this… knowing the swordsman had a weak spot, made the cook want to protect him. It made the cook want to understand him. Because seeing Zoro like this was like seeing a stranger in a mirror, and it tickled Sanji curiously.

The cook waited there a while longer, kicking at the soiled bed sheets and shoving them into the laundry hamper, along with Zoro's discarded clothing. Sanji watched the swordsman's chest beneath the blanket moving up and down, wanting to make sure it stayed moving. He watched the knit between his eyebrows gather and release. He touched Zoro's forehead and smoothed the worry lines away, then realized what he was doing and stopped. A soft sigh escaped between the swordsman's chapped lips.

Sanji remembered he'd left the water boiling and then left the room hastily, leaving a cold towel on Zoro's head, even though there was no fever. Thinking that maybe, the slight pressure alone would be enough to help.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tell a good story (make it sound real).

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Zoro woke up feeling strange, and puffy eyed. He looked around himself, and noticed Chopper sitting as his desk this time, a few feet away.

What in the world…?

He got sick… Damn. His teeth were coated with the after taste, and he could still smell the sickly, nauseating scent of vomit lingering in the air. And he hadn't been eating much, so it was just that much worse.

He made a small noise in the back of his raw throat, and Chopper spun around immediately.

"Oh good, you're awake!" The young reindeer chirped. Zoro thought he seemed a little too chipper compared to how the rest of his day was going so far.

"What the hell happened to me?"

"Well, after you got sick, you conked out pretty fast. Sanji thought you'd fainted at first." Chopper mumbled, sounding a little too innocent for Zoro's tastes.

Zoro's stare pierced the little reindeer, trying to piece together what Chopper was saying.

"Anyways, I think I overdid it a little with the dosage."

Zoro groaned and rubbed his face. It was coming back to him. Just foggy images, but he could remember some things. He remembered Sanji being in here with him, for one.

He remembered the cook being in here a lot. The bastard seemed to be everywhere.

Saw him crying. Saw him being sick.

"Here, drink this for me, please." Chopper handed him a glass full of something that looked like water but when Zoro went to swallow, it burned the underside of his tongue.

"Take smaller sips." Chopper instructed lightly, "It'll help you relax."

Zoro pinched his nose. "This sucks, I don't even want to put food in my mouth."

"Is the nausea still real bad?" Chopper asked, ears sinking slightly.

Zoro finished the horrid liquid and gave Chopper a level look. "It's still there, if that's what you mean." He didn't even sugar coat it for him, instead pinning the reindeer with a look that wanted answers. "Why was I so messed up earlier?"

Chopper's eyes widened in a doe-like fashion, he pressed his hooves together. "Heh, Sorry. I had to make the dose stronger. You're immunity level is scary sometimes, ya'know?"

"You poisoned me." Zoro accused lightly.

Chopper rubbed his furry little head, "Ah, not poisoned exactly. I think you got sick because of your concussion, but the drugs I gave you probably made you feel a little loopy."

Zoro nodded.

"It should go away soon, though. How'd you sleep?"

"Feels like I didn't, really."

"Sorry. It was drug induced, so it probably wasn't as relaxing as it could have been, but, did you dream?"

"No, no dreams."

Zoro couldn't bring himself to tell Chopper about the nightmares he had, however. After all, the doctor had never asked.

"That's great! If the dreams do come back though, I was thinking, about how you said your nightmares were pretty theme-based, and thought that it could be caused by guilt."

Zoro gave him another look, "Guilt?"

"Sure. Bad dreams can be caused by a number of things. Bad eating habits, stress, problems in your waking life, feelings of guilt." Chopper listed, text book like, "And that's not even half of them."

Zoro stared down at his hands.

"Zoro, are you feeling guilty about something, or maybe stressed?"

He was having a staring contest with his pinky finger. He blinked, and lost. Damn.

Chopper must have got the idea that he didn't feel all that up to long conversations at the moment, because he gave him a very patient look.

"You don't have to tell me about it, but I'm here if you feel like you need to talk, okay?" Chopper paused, he looked into Zoro's tired eyes sadly. "Okay?" he repeated.

Zoro nodded mutely.

"Maybe if you can talk about it, or distract yourself, it can clear your head."

He didn't want to talk about it.

And he didn't know a good distraction.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Shake:

1 shoulder.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The rest of that evening went by agonizingly slow. Feeling a little more coherent, Zoro escaped from the infirmary to out on deck and then was asked, in as gentle of a threatening tone that Nami could produce, to come back to the dining room, where he sat at the table with light chatter surrounding him. It didn't comfort him in the way it should have. Instead, it only managed to grate his still lingering headache.

Sanji made Onigiri with spicy rice vinegar just like Zoro liked it. It felt like torture, sitting there with something he'd normally inhale in a heartbeat and feeling too sick to his stomach to even look at it.

Sanji was seated next to him at the table, and Zoro could feel the cook's eyes pass over him again and again. He didn't turn to look at him. He nudged the riceball on his plate with his chopsticks instead.

"If your stomach is still upset, the plain rice might settle it."

Zoro felt the tips of his ears get hot at the cook's casual tone, as if talking about Zoro's health around the dinner table was the most natural thing for him to do.

"Not eating won't make the sick feeling go away."

"Yeah, come on Zoro, try it. Just a little bite?" Nami cooed from his left. Zoro didn't look at Nami either. Instead, he was forced to stare straight ahead to avoid the badgering. Robin was sitting across from him, and she didn't say anything about trying to eat something. She didn't ask questions that made him feel uneasy. She kept her mouth shut, and so Zoro found that it felt like it was safe to look at her.

When her straight lips turned into a small smile, however, he stiffened. And then he felt bloomed arms at his back, rubbing it. That was the final straw. He couldn't take it anymore. All of the nervous, or curious, or concerned looks. He hated the pity. He hated having all the unneeded attention thrust upon him. His face was burning by the time he managed to twist away from Robin's comforting hands. He didn't need the damn comfort!

He felt hot and dizzy all over again. Zoro slid his plate away from himself, said he felt too nauseous, and excused himself to go to bed.

Zoro knew the little reindeer was sad when he stood up to leave and so he told the kid he could have his dessert. The news made Chopper squirm a little in his seat.

"Are the pills not helping at all?"

"You did good, Chopper. I'm just not a very good patient. I don't like to be babied." The words were pointed to Sanji and Robin and Nami. "So stop looking at me as if I'm broken." He sent a look towards Chopper and Usopp and Franky. "I'm not." Zoro's voice didn't sound mad, and the way it shook as he said those words didn't sound at all convincing. Zoro didn't turn his eyes towards Luffy at all.

For once, Sanji didn't make a fuss.

Zoro didn't know if he felt relieved that he wasn't forced to put on a fight show with the chef, or offended that the cook hadn't tried to start anything. Did he think Zoro couldn't handle it? Zoro could handle it. He could. But he was secretly thankful that he didn't have to. A foggy understanding was all Zoro felt between them.

He lay wide awake on the couch, unable to close his eyes. Sleep didn't sound appealing to him at all, and Zoro was slightly worried that things might never go back to normal. It wasn't until he heard everyone tromping down stairs and fall into their own bunks that Zoro was able to think about sweet slumber.

He closed his eyes, clearing his mind as if in meditation, and before he knew it he was out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Add:

A pinch of ground cinnamon

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Zoro was suddenly nine years old again and he was drowning. He looked at his stubby appendages through his blurry underwater prison, wondering how he got there. _

_His head kept plunging beneath the surface of an ocean and Zoro couldn't find which way was up._

_All he could tell from his surrounding is that it was dark and cold. Really cold. _

_He felt the icy water clawing up and down his arms like serrated blades and they left deep bloody gashes when each wave passed over him. _

_Suddenly Wado Ichimonji was floating in front of his eyes. _

_Zoro gasped, gagged on water, and started coughing. _

_He could feel his lungs bursting with sea water, and he kicked frantically, reaching out towards Kuina's and his white handled blade._

_It kept sinking. _

_Zoro started floating. _

_The sword sunk faster._

_Suddenly Kuina was there, gripping the blade, and it was pulling her down into the murky ocean depths like an anchor. _

_Zoro kicked downwards with all his might, but he couldn't move. Icy ocean waves had him frozen in their firm grip. Sea water flooded his nose and eyes then and he couldn't see anything anymore._

_He was suddenly standing on top of the sea, waves whipping around him. He was nineteen again._

_There was a dark silhouette of a powerful man standing in front of him. _

"_What are you waiting for, boy?"_

_Eyes like a hawk flashed in front of him. Seeing those eyes brought Zoro uselessly to his knees. He still couldn't breathe, ocean water was still somehow caught in his lungs._

_He pressed his cheek against the black waves and peered down into the ocean again, trying desperately to find his lost friend. His hands hit the ocean surface like a large glass window. All he could do was peer through it, down into the murky waters._

_He could see Kuina twisting the blade uselessly, trying to gain control._

_Zoro caught her large eyes then, and hers too were like the eyes of a hawk, piercing golden slits that ran right through him. He reached out to her, and the ocean bit him. Kuina floated away. _

"_You're still weak, Zoro…"_

_Zoro started screaming Kuina's name then, there was a loud steel clang, and then the sea around him turned to blood, and the swords was back in his hand, stained with the same substance that the sea had become…_

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

3 glances at the Milky Way.

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

It was like clockwork. Every night now, Sanji could be certain that the swordsman was going to wake him up with another stupid nightmare plaguing him.

Sanji decided. He wasn't going to put up with this anymore.

The first night was annoying, the second made him curious, the third was a little more concerning, the fourth was just worrisome- which made it irksome at the same time. But the fifth? The fifth night in a row of Zoro awakening Sanji with his damn moaning and groaning was just too much. It was maddening and angering, because deep, deep down in a place inside Sanji that was very dusty and barely touched, he was terrified. Terrified, because deep deep down in that dark and dusty place, he actually might've _cared_ about Zoro a little. It was an alienated feeling, but it was there. He cared about the bastard. A little. Deep, deep down. Very deep.

It was because of that little prickling, deep down feeling that Sanji was awake now and staring across the room at his troubled crew mate. Sanji shook his head, wishing for a smoke. His hand was already lifted automatically to his lips where the invisible cigarette was perched. Yeah, this had to stop. He swung his legs out of his hammock and reached out for the crutch that he knew was perched against the wall at his side and made his way over to his marimo-headed comrade.

He stopped to loom over the couch where Zoro fitfully slept.

The images of Zoro in the medical bay last night with Chopper wouldn't leave his mind. He tried to tell himself that it was all just his imagination, but he knew it was real. The unwashed milk glasses that had been dumped in the kitchen sink he'd found that morning confirmed it. He tried to tell himself that the swordsman being sick yesterday was all in his mind too, but the sheets that he'd watched Franky hanging up to dry caused that notion to fly out the window along with the first. The weirdness was tangible. And the worst part was, Zoro wouldn't frickin' talk about it.

Not to Sanji at least.

Because that wasn't the swordsman's style.

And Sanji didn't really expect Zoro to confide in him. But obviously, whatever Chopper had given Zoro to supposedly "fix" him, wasn't working. And then there was that messed up breathing thing. If it was even real, Sanji thought that it might just be a reaction to the fear that Zoro's dreams were creating for him. And if it wasn't… well damn. The swordsman was in even deeper shit than Sanji had originally thought.

Some tossing and turning alerted Sanji to the slumbering lump he was standing over. He looked down, narrowed his eyes, and then his gaze softened. His foot pulsed with a wave of pain. Something was tearing into his heart. Zoro groaned. Sanji couldn't take it anymore. Man, Moss-head…

"Wake the hell up, Jackass." Sanji's harsh whisper had Zoro's eyes snapping open.

Zoro took in a deep gasp of air, still plagued by the drowning feeling he had been experiencing moments ago. He noticed a flash of blonde above him, and felt his body shaking but didn't feel hands touching him anywhere. Zoro peered around groggily, trying to swallow around the cottony feeling that was pressing against his tongue. It was too dark to see much of anything around him, but he could hear the gentle familiar breathing of the cook somewhere above his head. The shuffle of fabric and the creak of a crutch confirmed it to be true when Zoro had sat himself up.

Sanji's eyes were obviously better adjusted to their dark surroundings because the blonde's next words left Zoro's own eyes clenching shut. "It was just a bad dream?" If the question wasn't tacked on to the end of that statement, Zoro might have denied it. In fact, he didn't even think of denying it until it was too late and he was already out of bed and following Sanji slowly up on deck. The sound of the peg-leg hobble of the cook's crutch against the wood floors guided him as well as any beacon through the dark bunk room.

Zoro grabbed his swords like a security blanket as he stumbled as quietly as he could out of the cabin. The night air washing over Zoro's face as they left the cramped men's quarters was like a splash of cold water. The swordsman let out a long breath and discarded his weapons against the mast, not really wanting to touch them anymore. As if spellbound, Zoro turned and walked to the edge of the railing and leaned against it. He felt, rather than heard, Sanji limping up to stand beside him. The two stared over Port together, air caressing their cheeks. Zoro was thankful for the refreshing breeze against his flushed face.

The cook stole a glance at the swordsman next to him. Zoro hadn't said anything yet, which was odd, and so it gave Sanji every justifiable right to assume that something was wrong with his crew mate. He blinked softly and tried following the swordsman's gaze, trying to find the waves that made the other's eyes look so haunted. He didn't see anything but the blackened sea.

Sanji swallowed, just to wet his throat. He didn't know if this was the first time that the swordsman had faced an enemy that he couldn't see, but it was obviously weakening the Marimo's defenses. The worst part was that Sanji didn't know if he could back the swordsman up. If he could just get Zoro to open up to him, then Sanji thought their chances of beating this thing would rise greatly.

"At first," Sanji felt his voice halt, "I was going to tell you to just get over yourself, but that didn't sound very helpful." The cook chuckled. Zoro didn't chuckle back, didn't even acknowledge the cook. Sanji was beginning to wonder if Zoro even realized where he was.

Sanji backpedalled. Thinking a more sensitive approach may be necessary in a situation like this. Sanji was never great with kids, but he suddenly felt like that was how he should approach Zoro. Maybe gentle. Cautious. He could see the swordsman's fingers, white with his tight grip, wrapped around the railing. The tight muscles, straining in his neck as the swordsman ground his teeth together nervously.

"Zoro…" Sanji started again, Zoro didn't react. "Look, I know you said you didn't need any pity, or comfort, or babying shit. And I know we don't… we're not… close or anything, like you and Chopper, or how you are with Luffy, but," Sanji paused to take a breath. He didn't know why he was saying what he was. Maybe to fill up the silence. He looked back at Zoro. The swordsman showed no sign that he'd even heard the cook speak. "Look, Zoro, if there's something I can do," Sanji growled, he leaned heavier on his crutch, leaned closer to his crewmate, "If this is something I _caused…_"

"Cook," Zoro's gruff voice cut him off.

"I know, I know, this is stupid. If you just need some space, say the word." Sanji started shifting, feeling unhelpful. He thought he could do this, but it was obvious that it should be left to someone better, like Chopper, or their captain, or even Usopp. Maybe someone that actually _had_ a backbone and wasn't such a screw up in Zoro's mind.

"Cook," The gruff voice repeated. It made Sanji pause. "Wait," it added. "Stay." It begged.

Sanji stopped, and caught Zoro's gaze just to his left, looking down at his injured leg. Something in the swordsman's expression made him feel uneasy, but somehow secure at the same time.

Chopper had told Zoro that he might have felt guilty. Subconscious thoughts could come into dreams and torture him from the inside out. Zoro unclenched his jaw, turned his attention away from the black waves. He stopped trying to see the things he knew didn't exist when he looked out at the ocean and turned a little towards Sanji instead. The cook's voice was a steady grounding buzz a few minutes ago, it was there, and it was real, even if he hadn't heard all that the cook was saying. Zoro let his eyes linger steady on the chef's casted foot. Maybe he felt guilty about not being able to protect Kuina… but he could protect Sanji. Couldn't he? He didn't understand why he even cared in the first place, and that's why it bothered him so much.

There was a weighted pause that was so heavy it made Sanji startle when it suddenly ended.

"I am so sick and tired of watching people fall."

Sanji felt his heart beat hard against his chest twice before slowing down again. He stayed quiet, listening to the soft rumble that was Zoro's voice. The swordsman still seemed to be miles away, but Sanji could see his attention returning, little by little.

"When you fell before in the bedroom. I didn't say what I did to be cruel. At least I don't think I did. I would have helped you up. It was just, I didn't… I said what I said, because… because, maybe if you stayed down, you wouldn't fall anymore."

"_Can you get up?"_

_A headshake._

"_Good… Don't."_

Sanji listened to the swordsman's quiet voice, sounding like a cool ocean breeze. He let the explanation wash over him and sink in, and couldn't say that he hadn't already forgotten about that particular experience. It was funny that Zoro even chose to bring it up now. Sanji hadn't really taken that "insult" personally in the first place.

It was obviously weighing in pretty strongly on Zoro's mind, however. Sanji watched the swordsman close his eyes, clenching them tightly shut until the skin around them bunched at the creases.

"Why are you sweating that?"

Zoro shifted again, a little further away from Sanji and the cook redirected his words. He wasn't about to tell Zoro that the jibe hadn't fazed him at all. Sanji felt like shit after he fell in the bedroom. He'd just found his recipe cards that weren't even lost in the first place, after all, and he felt stupid. He'd remembered feeling embarrassed. He remembered thinking Zoro was an asshole for the way he just left him there. But he hadn't looked into it any deeper than that. He didn't think the swordsman's reasons for doing it was because… he didn't want Sanji to fall. Because he was… afraid… that Sanji would fall. Afraid. Ha. Zoro afraid. The thought seemed laughable. He shook his head, tearing the thought in two. "I mean, you don't have to dwell on that. We fight all the time. It's what we do."

"It's what we do." Zoro repeated. He liked to fight. He was good at it, and with every victory came a grander feeling of reward. Fighting was what he did. With Kuina. With Sanji. And maybe that's why he felt so protective of the cook now, because in some weird way, the Love Cook reminded Zoro of _her._

Maybe that's what Chopper meant about feeling guilty. Even though Chopper didn't know the whole story, and Sanji didn't know the whole story, and Luffy didn't care to know. No one knew except the dreams in Zoro's subconscious. Not Sensei, or Saga, or even Johnny. No one. No one knew how Zoro still partially blamed himself. If he hadn't made that promise that night, maybe… maybe things would be different. But it happened. It happened and he couldn't change it. But oh, how he wished he could, maybe that way the wind wouldn't make him feel so darn guilty every time he nearly lost or took a beating. It wouldn't hiss at him for how weak he still was and how he should be stronger.

"Well, it's not all we do." Came Sanji's soft voice, hitting Zoro's temple. "We do some other shit together, it's not much, but we do. Sometimes. We're… crewmates, or something."

Zoro swallowed, staring sidelong at the blonde, all hunched over himself, like he was suddenly so unsure of what he was saying.

"Yeah, we are." Zoro confirmed, knowing that Sanji deserved to hear that, at the very least.

The blonde's breathing came a bit easier after Zoro's confirmation. And Sanji was suddenly digging into his voice box, hastily trying to vomit up some words of consolation for Zoro.

"This is going to sound cheesy as hell," the cook paused, curling a strand of blonde bangs around his finger. "But I'm going to say it anyways." He felt the swordsman's eyes watching him, they were pressing and caressing. "Zoro, falling is… how we become stronger." Sanji said, his hands moving steadily downward until they found purchase on the rails of the _Sunny_ that Zoro was leaning against. He let his shoulder brush statically against the swordsman's upper arm, trying to offer comfort that he knew he wasn't allowed to give.

Zoro waited as Sanji's words washed over him like glue.

"_falling is how we become stronger."…?_

They sounded familiar. Sounded like,

"_losing is how we become stronger." _

Sensei.

He took a cursory glance at the cook's hands gripping onto the ship's railing and wanted to scream. How could the cook say something like that to him now? "Shut up. You don't believe that. That doesn't even mean anything to me." He ground out.

Did Sanji and Sensei know something he didn't? Weakness didn't make a person strong.

"_You're weak, Zoro."_

Damn it!

Zoro let out a couple large breaths and forced his mind to shut itself off. Sanji was stupid! He didn't know! He didn't understand!

Sanji hummed. Leaned forward, and caught Zoro's averted eyes and held his gaze steady. "It sounds like you've heard that one before." The cook mused. "So have I, believe me. The Old Geezer wouldn't let me forget it."

Zoro shifted uncomfortably where he stood, gripping his haramaki that was wrapped around his waist in gentle fists. He tried to escape the look that Sanji had him pinned with, but couldn't. There was something in Sanji's eyes that made him look back, something that made Zoro feel like maybe he might understand some of the swordsman's burdens after all.

"We fall… but we get back up." Sanji said, after he was sure he had Zoro's attention. When the swordsman's frown deepened, he continued. "We can't grow without losing first, not without making some mistakes. Right?"

A sadness washed over Zoro then that he felt he had no right to experience.

He looked back at Sanji, eyes blazing in raw emotion. "And what if one day, you don't fucking get back up? Huh? What then, Cook. Do you wanna tell me what the hell will happen then?" Zoro shuddered. He gripped the green cloth tighter all the way through to his t-shirt underneath until he was pinching the firm skin on his stomach. Zoro felt his breath coming in short, shallow pants. Tried to even them out before speaking. "Your clumsy ass keeps falling down, and what if one day you can't get back _up_?"

Zoro was screaming, but his voice was a hoarse whisper. Sanji noticed the stress lines growing deeper along the swordsman's brow, and it surprised him by how much effort it took to not reach out and try to smooth them away. He held back though, and Sanji held onto those dark eyes with his own instead. Noticed the way the surface was glossy when the moon light swept over them.

"I will always get back up, Shithead. You wanna know why?"

Zoro swallowed, balled his fists at his side and forced himself to look away. Sanji didn't understand! He didn't know that people could just randomly die one day, and there was just nothing anyone could do to stop it. He wondered if Sanji had ever experienced a death of someone he cared about. And then he was hoping he hadn't. And he didn't understand why he wished for that so badly.

"You want to know _WHY,_ Zoro?"

"WHY?" Zoro snapped. His voice cracked, going high and hysteric at the end.

Sanji whirled on him. He slammed a hand down on one of Zoro's shaking wrists, if only just to keep him from running away, like Zoro wanted to. Wanted to, but never would.

Because the Roronoa Zoro that Sanji knew didn't run from anything.

Even if the one standing next to him might.

Sanji wanted to ask Zoro who he was and where did the real Marimo go, but the thought sounded stupid. Zoro was here, next to him. He squeezed the tense wrist tightly in his own fist and then moved to press it against the railing like a cuff.

Sanji gave him a long, hard stare. Reaching into Zoro's eyes with his own. The yellow moonlight glowed in them and Zoro saw gold and truth trapped there.

"Why?" Zoro screamed again. His breath moving in cold puffs towards the cook's face; Zoro could see his breath dissolving over the cook's nose, over his lips. Clouds that dissolved and weren't really there, just coloring the air.

"Because, shit-for-brains," Sanji spoke, and a puff of Zoro's breath caressed Sanji's teeth. Zoro forced himself to turn away, gaze shifting down towards the soft hand holding onto him, watching those impossibly long fingers coil tightly around his thick wrist.

"You'll be there to pick me up again."

A large lump caught in Zoro's throat. He was pretty sure he'd never felt this much intense emotion in his entire life. His gaze swept up to meet the cook's stare again. Sanji's lips curled softly at the sides.

The blonde head nodded towards the mast behind them when he was sure he had Zoro's attention. The swordsman didn't follow the cook's gaze. He didn't need to see what the cook was pointing to. He knew. He fucking knew and the damn cook told him anyway. "That white sword there. You picked her up, right?"

Zoro felt his resolve crumbling. He bit his lower lip hard when it started to tremble.

"The wind doesn't call you "weak". Wind can't talk. It only says what you want it to say."

"Cook...I…"

"You picked _her_ up. So, I don't doubt that you'll pick me up too."

Zoro turned away from the cook then, discreetly wiping away heavy emotion that had welled up along his bottom lashes. "You're such a cheesy bastard."

"Meant every word, dumbass."

Zoro swallowed. The cook released him.

"Man, I really need a cigarette." The cook breathed out.

Zoro cleared his throat, gaze flicking up towards the moon. "It was all bullshit, by the way. Bullshit about trust and I was wrong to say it, but you pissed me off so much. You said all the things I didn't want to hear. It was just wrong timing."

"It's okay. It was a good slap in the face."

"Guess we all need one of those, huh?" Zoro snuffed. He ran a hand through his hair, staring out at the horizon. "I feel lighter." He offered, and then wished he wouldn't have said it out loud. He saw Sanji smile out of the corner of his eye.

There was too much heat surrounding them now, and it wasn't angry either. It was heavy and confusing and somehow meaningful. It made both men want to turn and run, but they stood their ground, refusing to surrender to something that was on a fine line between comfortable and uncomfortable.

"Hey, look at that." Zoro changed the subject.

Sanji looked up at Zoro and then followed his crewmate's gaze out towards the sea. There was a small speck on the horizon.

Zoro stood there, for once not feeling so weighted down. Maybe he just needed one big adventure. A big bang to take this all away.

A distraction.

Chopper mentioned how a distraction could cure him of his nightmares.

A distraction.

Sanji was leaning further out over the railing now, trying to see what Zoro had offhandedly mentioned only moments before. Sanji's words were still playing in his mind, toying with his thoughts, and sending feelings that actually didn't hurt throughout the swordsman's heart. Zoro felt the trust between them spark again.

The cook had successfully distracted him from his pain filled night terror.

"Oi, Oi, what're you looking at, Asshole?" Sanji asked, obnoxiously too close to Zoro's face, trying to match the other's eyelevel. "That little rocky speck out there?"

It was a little too soon for laughter, so Zoro settled on a smirk while Sanji tried to seek out the little speck of land in the distance.

The swordsman felt himself yawn then, and he still felt dreadfully tired, as he had for days. The thought of sleep, for once, seemed welcome, just like it used to.

Maybe he'd found his distraction.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Now throw it all in the ocean.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Zoro fell asleep that night, listening to the Love Cook's voice replaying in his head. And Sanji thought that maybe Zoro just needed someone to talk to. A shoulder. And the swordsman seemed to finally sleep peacefully. It wasn't until six hours later, when dawn was beginning to creep up across the horizon that Zoro finally startled awake. Sanji counted down the seconds in his mind it took his heart to nearly tear itself out of his chest, and the echoes of "COOK!" to stop resounding off the bedroom walls. To stop ringing in his ears.

Sanji died in Zoro's dream that night. Sanji died in much worse ways that Kuina ever did. Because, when Kuina died, the wind would howl back at Zoro in some tremendous force, and whisper the words "weak" in Zoro's ears until they bled. But when Sanji had died, swallowed by the sea, Zoro could do nothing but stand there and watch. And the sea, unlike the wind, roared back and told Zoro how "strong" he was. It was the worst slap in the face the swordsman had ever received.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Begin with:

4 ½ brushed knuckles

1 tingling hand

2 whispers

1 weird dream

Blend together with:

Cold toes

1 cup of Chamomile Tea

Tell a good story (make it sound real).

Shake:

1 shoulder.

Add:

A pinch of ground cinnamon

3 glances at the Milky Way.

Now throw it all in the ocean.

Presenting a cook's recipe for:

Sincerity.

Bon Appitite.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The weather was brighter than it had been all week. Sanji was almost sure that it was mocking him. He was feeling worse than he had all week, and it was because he was officially out of ideas. He sat outside on the grass deck and tilted his head back, trying hard to enjoy the warmth that the sun shone against his face. There were clouds in the sky that Nami said could turn into storm clouds, but she wasn't worried about them, and so a peaceful blanket fell over the _Thousand Sunny_.

That little speck Zoro and he had seen last night turned out to be the island that they'd been sailing towards for the past two weeks. Nami told them it would take at least until nightfall to reach it. Sanji couldn't have been more grateful. He could stock up on cigarettes, sleep in a real bed, take a break from cooking, and get the hell away from the swordsman until they figured out what would truly help the shit-head.

He couldn't wait to dock, and Luffy's chanting of "_Island, Island_! _Ahoy_!" wasn't helping.

There was a sick feeling in Sanji's gut as he sat there, trying to rest his eyes. It was tense, and he couldn't figure out quite why.

Zoro was lifting weights on the other side of the ship, he could hear the heavy clunks as each one rose up and down. Again and again and again. _Clunk, clunk, clunk._ They hadn't stopped since dawn. They hadn't stopped and Zoro did not eat breakfast. Zoro looked like positive death this morning. He was quieter than usual, and he wouldn't look or speak to Sanji at all. Sanji growled softly. He didn't know what to _do!_

It shouldn't have been his problem!

Everything Sanji did lately seemed to blow up in his face.

"_Cook!" _Zoro's cry from last night had startled him, had woken up the entire crew, save Chopper, who was on Lookout. When they asked him about it, Zoro hadn't said a word, just took a long look at Sanji through the flickering candle light, as if to make sure he was still in one piece, and then left the room.

No one had followed after him. Everyone was convinced that Zoro just needed his own space for a while. He looked so shaken, so rough. And when he didn't show up at breakfast, Sanji's patience with him nearly snapped in two. He'd gone to find him, but found him lifting weights. Stupid _clunk, clunk, clunk. _And he looked so deep in thought, that Sanji didn't feel like he had the right to disturb him. The aura around the swordsman was thick with the need for space, and so Sanji let him be.

But that was over an hour ago, and the _clunks!_ were _still_ pacing, like rabid caged tigers, through Sanji's eardrums.

He thought he'd made it clear to the swordsman last night that if he needed help all he had to do was ask for it. And now they were drawing ever closer to that speck of land, so everything should be okay again. Except it wasn't, and Sanji knew it wasn't, because Zoro was even _ignoring_ Luffy. Sanji was beginning to wonder if the swordsman had lost the half of his brain that he actually might have possessed somewhere between stupid-o'-clock and dawn-thirty.

Zoro always got excited before a new island, always hoping to blow his small share of their fortune on the prospect of finding a nice bar or pub in town, or geeking out in some weapon shop somewhere. His excitement wasn't as easy to read compared to Luffy's, but it was there. He usually at least humored the rubbery captain during the final stretch, but not today. Today he didn't say a word, and Sanji didn't know if Luffy even thought twice about it, the way he was carrying on with his stupid _New Island_ chants.

Sanji ran a hand through his shaggy bangs, biting harshly on the gum Chopper prescribed him. It was official, he was going to go mad…

And then the ship rocked. There was a loud yelp, followed by an even louder _clunk!._ It didn't take long to put two and two together.

Sanji climbed to his feet, hobbling up the stairs towards the figure head. He noticed Zoro's empty boots by the railing before he even heard the splash.

Luffy had fallen overboard. And Zoro had gone to save him.

That was the routine… right?

So then, why the sinking feeling?

Maybe it's because Captain and First Mate hadn't resurfaced, and the air bubbles were no longer appearing.

That could be it.

Sanji stayed, staring in a sleepy helplessness over the railing.

"Man overboard!" Usopp had yelled, accidentally right in Sanji's ear.

Hm.

Damn.

* * *

T.B.C!

Looooong. Long. Long. I'm sorry… I was going to split it. So many times. But it didn't feel finished when I did, so I didn't, but I could, but… yeah. I didn't. (sheepish) It's to make up for the long hiatus, me thinks.

A/N: A curious little question popped up in a message, so I thought I'd also answer it for everyone. The little poems / sayings that are posted before each chapter starts are not song lyrics or published poems. (frowns). They're actually just my own creation. XD Sorry for those if you'd searched for them in songs. They're just my goofy little introduction bits. I like poetry. (hearts)

Any comments, concerns, private messages, and reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks to you all. You're all so lovely.


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